


Downtime

by DoctorpooandtheTURDIS



Series: 1287 [3]
Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 26,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23937997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorpooandtheTURDIS/pseuds/DoctorpooandtheTURDIS
Summary: The Demogorgon is dead, and things have gone back to normal in Hawkins, Indiana.And John-117 is faced with a new struggle.Living with a psychic superpowered child.
Series: 1287 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713106
Comments: 14
Kudos: 28





	1. Reminiscence Therapy

_**November 23rd, 1983** _

The first few weeks John and El spent living together were probably the most difficult. The two worked to make the cabin livable for some time, cleaning out the dust and cobwebs, fixing the windows that had broken, installing some more locks on the door. Hopper, during all of that, graciously had the check cashed in and the total sum handed over to John. The rest of the party, once things had cooled down enough for them to be sure they weren’t being followed, also pitched in, supplying furniture, clothes, and even toys.

By the end of it, the cabin had felt like home.

At least, to El.

John, meanwhile, still had his reservations. Not about the cabin, but the whole situation. The first week in 1983 had been busy, so busy that the SPARTAN didn’t have time to lounge around, but now… It looked like for the next few months, at least, his days were going to be mostly downtime, and downtime meant thinking. Thinking about all that he’d lost.

He didn’t know what to expect, charging through the portal to the Ark. All he knew was that Cortana had a plan, and he trusted her to see him and the rest of humanity through the conflict safely. And then they were on an incomplete Halo, and then he was crash landing in 1983.

He wondered what his brothers and sisters were doing without them. The last he’d seen any one of them was before the initial Battle of Earth, as Maria handed the Mark VI off to him for battlefield deployment. The last time before that was Operation: FIRST STRIKE.

And that’s what made the first few weeks hard, knowing that no matter how hard he wanted it, no matter how much he wished he could send out ‘Olly Olly Oxen Free’ and they’d all come running, he’d never see them again.

El looked up from her book. As it turned out, she was quite the hungry reader, even if her comprehension left something to be desired. The first thing she did upon receiving the ‘care package’ from the party, filled with candy, toys, and games, was take out the book, sit down right where she was standing, and begin reading.

“You’re sad.” El stated.

John nodded sadly at her but turned back to the TV. Cortana’s chip sat on the coffee table, the remote next to it, the AI cross-legged and viewing it intently. Of all the people he expected to be enthralled by the Saturday Night Live, it wasn’t her.

“Why are you sad?” El questioned. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no.” He answered, keeping her calm. “I’m just thinking.”

“Oh.” El nodded. “What about?”

John pursed his lips. It was a deeply personal subject she’d just asked about, though she didn’t know that. Or maybe she did, but just didn’t care. He thought about simply telling her he’d explain later, but given that both of them were liable to be stuck in there for the foreseeable future, and his own habit of making promises…

Maybe it was better to get it out of the way sooner, rather than later…

“I was thinking about my family.” John finally responded. “The other SPARTANs.”

“Others?”

“Yes, others…” John frowned. “When we were in the void when we first met, you read my mind enough to know we were alike, but not that there were others like me?”

“Not important.” El answered. “Needed to know about _you_.”

“Ah.” John supposed it made sense. Only a surface-level probe, that’s what it was. “But yes, there are others like me. “

“How many?” El tilted her head, genuinely curious.

Hm. He wondered what the metric by which to count was. Did he include every one that was considered for the program, and not just the ones who were inducted? Did that number include the model IIIs?

“Seventy-five.”

Ah, there it was. A part of him wondered if he could get away with lying to her. Seventy-five SPARTANs were chosen, over a third of that died in the augmentation procedures, and even more were consumed by the Covenant’s advance.

There was a reason why some called him the _Last_ SPARTAN.

He wondered that, after the crisis on the Ark ended, did any other survivors come out of the woodwork? It’d make him happy to know that, if no one else, Linda, Kelly, and Fred had survived. But that got John’s mind working.

“What was it like?” El asked.

“What was what like?” John inquired in response.

“Having brothers and sisters.”

“You don’t know? There was nobody else in there with you?”

El shook her head. “Just me.”

John didn’t know if he should’ve been sad that she was all alone in that place on her own, or glad that there were no other children in there. But, the SPARTAN reminded himself, she was number eleven. There were either more children like her, or, like him, she was the only one of her kind to survive.

“It was…” John didn’t know how to begin. How do you describe having a brother or sister to someone that didn’t have a frame of reference? “We shared everything, we were always there for each other, and when one of us felt something, we all felt it. Even before we got our armor, we were all unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable.” El repeated. “Tell me about some of them.”

“I don’t think-“

“Please.” El begged. “It doesn’t have to be a lot.”

John took in a breath and leaned back. “Well… How about I start you off with Blue Team?”


	2. One Easy Step for Getting a Child to Bed

**_ November 27th, 1983 _ **

Despite what outside observers may think, most mornings, El awoke long before John did. Looking back on it with the benefit of hindsight, it was obvious that, being locked in a facility where the only semblance of a day-night cycle was the one put in place by those in charge, El’s schedule didn’t sync up with the rise and fall of the sun. John likened it to being on a starship for extended periods of time.

But perhaps it was more apt to say that El didn’t have _any_ schedule, the girl simply went to sleep and woke up when she felt like it. Cortana, still trying to be of as much help as possible, put in her two cents.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from having Doctor Halsey’s memories in my head, it’s that kids need to be kept to a schedule.” Cortana said upon seeing El, drained with fatigue, staggering back into her room, before clocking out for eight hours.

“We don’t go into town,” John pointed out. “She doesn’t have school, and the children won’t be visiting for another few weeks. Besides, I’m no expert on her situation before she escaped, but I think she’s had enough of others telling her what to do. What are you watching?”

“George Carlin.” Cortana answered. The AI, in one desperate attempt to sate her rampancy, had taken to watching television to keep herself from performing the calculations that compounded making the rampancy worse. The thing is, for such a quickly thought out and hairbrained idea, it seemed to be doing the trick, for now at least, and Cortana regularly immersed herself into the world of television, focusing on the screen and letting the rampant spikes calm.

“She’s a child, John, sleep is a vital part of her continuing development.” Cortana turned her head back to the TV. Carlin was belting out something about seven words, and John frowned. Chief Mendez had always said that swearing only made a person seem less articulate, and John agreed. “Adults need regular sleep schedules to maintain cognitive and biological health, children too.”

“I don’t feel comfortable ordering her around like that.” John leveled. “She’s not my child.”

“No, she’s not.” Cortana agreed. “But you’re the only one she’s got.”

Later on, as it was approaching afternoon, El finally woke up, stepping out of her room, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. John waved her over to a plate of breakfast that had long since gone cold, and still the girl chowed into it like it was the best thing she’d ever eaten.

“Listen.” John spoke up, El’s eyes turning up to meet his. “We’re going to try something different today.”

El froze, and her eyes widened. Papa would use that same phrase whenever he decided to ‘push’ her.

“Don’t worry,” John quickly entered in, “it’s not anything bad. All I need you to do is go into your room when the numbers on that clock read- “He pointed and paused at the digital clock on his own bedside table. “Eleven o’clock and try to go to sleep.” Yes, it was a bit late, but the important thing was getting her on a schedule, not having that schedule wake her up early in the morning.

“Eleven o’clock?” She repeated. “How do I know?”

The SPARTAN frowned. “You don’t know how to tell time?”

El shook her head.

“Okay,” The SPARTAN turned, “You see those two numbers on the left there?”

El nodded.

“Those are the hours. The two numbers on the right are the minutes. Still with me?”

The girl nodded again.

“Good. Now, you read it all from left-to-right. So, if you look at the clock now, it’s…?”

El pursed her lips. “One-two-two-five.”

“That’s good.” John nodded with approval. “But typically, we don’t say every number on its own. For clocks, we say the two numbers on each side as one. For example, right now, it’s twelve twenty-five.”

“Twelve twenty-five.” El nodded with comprehension.

“Right. So, when it’s eleven o’clock, the two numbers on the left will be two ones, and the ones on the right will be two zeroes. Got it?”

“Two ones, two zeroes.” El repeated.

The rest of the day proceeded as normal, and soon, eleven o’clock had rolled around. Dinner came and went, and El was sent off to bed, the lights under her door cutting off.

The next morning, however, it was fast approaching ten, and still there was no sign of El.

“I don’t think the schedule worked.” John remarked, sitting down on the couch. “Even if it took an hour for her to fall asleep, she should’ve been up by now.

“Well, it’s not likely to just take the first night to get her on a regular schedule.” Cortana said, her eyes focused on the scene of a giant reptilian monster battling a metal twin of itself. “These things, they take time. You’ll have to keep pressing her. Start punishing her, if you have to.”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“I’m not saying you should use corporal punishment to get her to go to bed on time, just set up a simple rewards system.” Cortana furrowed her brow. “I wonder how much power it’d take to move a robot like that…”

“A rewards system?” The SPARTAN repeated.

“Yeah, something to stimulate the dopamine receptors, the human brain goes crazy for it.” Cortana said. The movie went to commercial, and Cortana snapped her holographic fingers, the channels flipping a second later. John wasn’t sure how she did it with something so primitive, but it was probably just some simple infrared transmissions sent to the receiver in the television set.

“What do you suggest?” John asked.

“Just something simple, enough for her to understand. As for what that is, you’re the human, it's your prerogative.” Cortana frowned as she looked at the scene on the TV. “Are _Andy_ _Griffith_ reruns the only thing they show on this station?"

When El woke up, and it was an hour past noon, John sat her down to eat her breakfast, and sat across from her.

She was eating quickly, far quicker than normal, and the SPARTAN frowned. Sure enough, one of the chunks she was working through went down the wrong way, and El started hacking.

John sprang into action quickly, but she managed to cough it out before he could get to her, and her breathing slowed. And then the tears came.

“I’m sorry, John.” She sniffled out. “Don’t get mad.”

The SPARTAN’s brow cocked. “You choked. There’s not anything for me to get mad about.”

“No.” El shook her head, the tears still falling. “Couldn’t sleep.”

John crouched down to meet her eyes. “Are you afraid that I’m going to be mad at you because you couldn’t get to sleep?”

El nodded. “Yes.”

“El,” John began. “When I was in training, anyone who hesitated or failed to follow instructions were hit with a shock baton. Do you know what that is?”

El could only nod. “Shock… me?”

“No.” The SPARTAN answered. “My point is that I know your pain. And I will never, and I mean _never,_ punish you like Brenner and his men, I promise. And you know, when you make a promise…”

El calmed. “You keep it.” She smiled.

“That’s right.” John smiled back. “Now, how about tonight we try something different? If you can get to bed on time tonight, and wake up before noon tomorrow, after dinner tomorrow night, I’ll let you have an extra eggo before you go to bed.”

El’s eyes widened slightly. “You mean it?”

John nodded. “I mean it.”


	3. The First Snowfall

**_December 1st, 1983_ **

Looking back on it, John didn’t know what he’d been thinking. It was a severe breach of judgement on his part, going out in the open, even if it was just the forest. It had only been two weeks, at the most, since Brenner’s death, and that meant that Hawkins (areas surrounding included) was still under heavy surveillance.

One slip up, especially him being out of his armor, could land them into some deep trouble.

So it was no wonder that it decided to snow that day.

El stared out the cabin’s window, mouth parted with wonder and awe. Little tiny mites of white dust fell from the grey sky, blanketing the ground in a thick layer.

“Pretty.” El remarked, looking at the scene unfolding.

“I suppose so.” John agreed, sitting next to her.

“What is it?” She asked.

“Snow.” John answered, as he looked out the window as well.

“Snow.” El repeated. “Where did it come from?”

“It’s precipitation, like rain.” Cortana piped up, as she tuned the TV to the weather. “Sometimes it gets cold enough that the tiny little water droplets that make up clouds crystallize and fall to the ground.”

“Like rain… What does it do?” El asked.

“I’m sorry?” Cortana replied.

“Rain gives the plants water.” El stated, repeating something from one of her books. “What does snow do?”

“Oh, the same thing, mostly.” Cortana answered. “Except it usually takes longer because the snow has to melt first.”

“So it just… sits there?” El questioned.

“Pretty much.” Cortana replied. “But it’s pretty malleable stuff. A lot of people like to play in it.”

El’s eyes brightened. “You can play with it?”

“Yeah, snowball fights, snowmen, snow angels, sledding… there’s a lot that people like to do with it.” Cortana finished.

El turned to John.

“No.” John shook his head, already knowing what was about to come out of her mouth.

Her smile fell, and she began pouting, the girl’s eyes staring into him with a pleading look. “Please.”

Well, it’d allow him to get some exercise in at least.

* * *

The Master Chief darted in between the trees; the heavy layer of protection wrapped up around him doing nothing to slow his movement.

The SPARTAN’s eyes darted around, surveying the battlefield.

He grinned once he saw his target. An enemy fortification, twenty-five meters ahead. The SPARTAN reached down, and scooped up a thick clump of snow, packing it into a neat ball.

The SPARTAN crouched, moving slowly. He was moving so quietly that even the snow crunching beneath him couldn’t be heard. They were neck-and-neck now.

He loved games, and this was one he’d win. The SPARTAN wound up, rounded the tree to the other side of the packed snow wall, and froze.

She wasn’t there.

Something cold and wet collided against the back of John’s head.

“Ha!” El shouted in satisfaction. “Got you! And,” While the SPARTAN was occupied, she stuck a stick with a red shirt tied at the top into the ground, “Got your flag!”

“Nice.” The SPARTAN complimented. “What’s that? Four blue, two red?”

“I’m beating you!” El pointed out.

“You’re not beating me.” The SPARTAN denied. “You _have_ beaten me, past tense.”

“What?” El’s eyes widened, breaking out into a smile.

“It was best of four out of seven.”

“I beat you!?” She shouted excitedly.

John nodded. “You beat me.” His pride took only just a little bit of a hit. If she could beat a SPARTAN, especially him, fair and square, she had earned the praise. “You did good, El.”

El’s smile widened at the praise. “Go again?”

“Nah.” John shook his head. “Let’s rest for a little bit, do something else.”

“Like what?”

“Well…” The SPARTAN began. “How about we build a snowman?”

“A…. Snow-man?” El slowly repeated.

“Yeah. Come over here.” John ushered El out into a small clearing. “We need to a bit of space to roll the snow.”

“Roll it?” El questioned, as John started packing snow into another, much larger ball.

“Like this.” John sat the ball down and started rolling it forward. “Linda and I used to do this sometimes during training, if we could get away with it.”

“Linda?”

“She was the sniper on Blue Team, remember?” John answered, setting the giant snowball in place once he was happy with its size. He packed another snowball and handed it over to El to continue.

“Oh-fifty-eight. The red head.” El recalled, rolling the ball. “Like this?” She asked, stopping the ball, before it got much larger than the first.

“That’s right.” John said, picking up the snowball, stacking it on top of the other. “Now, all we need is one more. You want to do the honors?”

El nodded and rolled up one last snowball. Once it was the size of her own head, she handed it off to John, who placed it at the top of the stack.

“There.” John said satisfactorily, stepping back.

“Still needs something.” El stated.

“Oh?” John questioned, looking down at the girl.

“They make people with faces, why not snow people?”

John reached down to pick up a few rocks. He pressed two into the snow and arranged the rest into a little line under it. “There. Good?” He smiled.

El smiled back. “Perfect.”

* * *

“It’s about time you two got back.” Cortana spoke up from her usual perch.

“We’ve only been out there for a few minutes.” John replied, rolling a shoulder.

“It’s been ten hours.”

John stopped. “Hm.” He usually had a better sense of time than that. But, in his defense, it had been decades since he got the chance to just… have fun with no worries.

And in El’s case, it was likely the first chance she had to play like that since she’d been born.

The ruminating on that tugged at John in a way he didn’t anticipate. The SPARTANs, at least, had been made perfectly aware of what was expected of them, and what they were being prepared to do. Even with the constant training, there was still room for them to be children, with them treating exercises like Capture the Flag as if they were games, and having genuine fun doing it, despite the fact they were training to be soldiers.

It was a luxury Eleven had never been granted. From birth all the way up to her escape she it was likely they pushed her from one ‘test’ to the next, never knowing the simple joy of playing a game, or even socializing with another child. He could see it in her eyes. Even when he was that young, he didn’t have eyes like that. Those weren’t the eyes of a child, they were those of a soldier, who had already seen one battle too many.

So John came to a new conclusion. Looking back, it was obvious.

If those people in the labs couldn’t be bothered to give her a childhood, he would give her one his damn self.


	4. A Good SPARTAN?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of an experiment this one. Absolutely no dialogue.
> 
> It's also much shorter than the others.

Some days were worse than others. Cortana kept her attention glued to the simple task of watching TV, in her continued attempt to hold back her worsening rampancy, but it was still an ever-encroaching condition.

Sometimes, she’d be dead to the world, the only thing managing to rouse her attention being John picking up her chip.

Other times, she’d snap at everything and everyone. There was one point that poor El got torn to shreds by the AI for walking in front of the TV at exactly the wrong time. Fortunately, El, though a bit teary-eyed, recognized that the AI literally couldn’t stop herself, and had forgiven the construct after some anguished apologies on Cortana’s part. More fortunately, the only thing she was able to control while she was outside of the armor was the TV, so they didn’t have any repeats of the school ambush.

But still, it hurt John, seeing her in that condition. It wasn’t anything that hadn’t happened before, seeing someone he considered close injured. The last time something like this happened was Linda, when she’d been pronounced clinically dead while escaping the destruction of Reach. That time too, as her limp form was placed inside a cryo-tube, it stabbed him in his very soul.

And like that time, there was nothing he could do.

That was the worst form of torture, for any SPARTAN. They could withstand some of the most brutal pain that could be inflicted on a human being but being forced to watch one they cared about get hurt, it hurt more than anything.

That was the mistake most made about the SPARTANs. They didn’t outwardly show emotions, which had started the countless rumors of them all being heartless automatons, but in truth, they were some of the most empathic people humanity had ever produced.

But sometimes… He wished the rumors were true.

John looked over, to El excitedly reading out a section of her book to Cortana, the AI’s previous transgression forgotten.

He wondered how El did it. Like the SPARTANs, Eleven didn’t deserve even a fraction of the things that had been done to her. She’d been subjected to conditions that no human being had ever endured before, and it was far worse than she let on, he knew. It should’ve left her an angry mess, the abuse, the ‘tests…’

And yet, instead of what she endured leaving her a broken, angry shell of a person, Eleven was one of the most kind, empathetic people John had ever met, even for a child. It was something else that gave her something in common with the super soldiers.

He wondered if, in another life, she would’ve made a good SPARTAN.


	5. Family Matters, Part One

**_ December 5th, 1983 _ **

It all started one morning when the two were sat down for breakfast.

“John,” El spoke up suddenly, “Do I have a mom?”

John frowned. “What got you thinking about that?”

“Will and I were talking about Christmas presents over the radio.” El answered.

John cocked an eyebrow. “You were talking to Will?”

“I like talking to Will, he’s nice.” El explained. “And he started talking about everything his mom did for him, and how much he loved her, and it got me thinking; If I had a Papa, I must’ve had a mama, right?”

Wow, that was singlehandedly the most amount of words she’d ever spoken to the SPARTAN, ever.

“Two things.” John began. “Brenner may have had you call him ‘Papa,’ but that was an emotional manipulation technique to get you to cooperate with him, he’s not your father.” The SPARTAN outlined. “Second, everyone has a mother. Even I had one.”

“Halsey.” El stated, nodding. She may not have known the full significance of what she had just said, but she was right, in any case. “So, if everyone has a mom, where’s mine?”

He wondered about that as well. Was she taken in the night like he’d once been, or did her parents give her over to Brenner and his cronies for some sort of incentive? Did they know El was out there? Did they care enough to look for her? Or were they already gone, their only legacy a girl that didn’t know they had ever existed?

“I really don’t know.” John sighed. “I was six when I was conscripted, by that time I had been alive long enough to have _some_ memories of my birth mother, but you…”

“The bad place is the only thing I can remember.” El looked down despondently. “It makes me sad. Everyone else has moms and dads.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure she’s out there somewhere.” John leaned forward. “If you want, we can try to look for her.”

El brightened. “You mean it?”

“I mean it.” John nodded.

El got up from her seat and walked over to hug him, smiling into his shoulder.

John didn’t know what got him thinking it was a good idea. And he hated not knowing.

“Cortana,” John began, the AI watching _Scooby Doo,_ “How do people in this time get information?”

“Information?” The AI repeated, frowning. “Well, they use newspapers to keep up with current events, I think.”

“What about information that’s older?”

“In that case, I think they go to libraries.” The AI answered. “Why?”

Dammit, all of this was screaming _bad idea._

John looked back over at El, who was still smiling wide.

…But he couldn’t deny it, he was curious too.

“El started wondering about where her birth mother is.” John leveled with his longtime comrade.

“Okay, say no more, I’m coming with you.” The AI turned away from the screen, her hand on her hip.

“You sure that’s a good idea? I can get away with going into town, but they’ve seen El before.” John said. “She’ll need to stay behind, and you know how she gets when we try to leave her alone.”

“I can…” El uncomfortably shifted her hands. “I can manage while you’re gone.”

John looked down at the girl. “Are you sure?”

El didn’t look sure, but her gaze steeled, and she nodded. “If it helps.”

“I might be gone for a while.”

El nodded again, more certain this time.

“Alright.” John crouched to her level. “If you’re sure. But there have to be a few rules while I’m gone. Don’t open the curtains, keep the door locked, and if you see someone that’s not supposed to be here, radio Hopper immediately. Clear?”

“Clear.” El replied.

John nodded, grabbed Cortana’s chip, and stood back up to full height. He slid the chip into his neural interface, slipped on a toboggan (he _refused_ to call it a beanie) to cover the neural interface at the back of his head, and stepped outside. He took one last look at Eleven, and the door was shut, the locks sliding into place afterwards.

“Ah,” Cortana took an exaggerated breath, “Fresh air.”

The SPARTAN stepped off the porch, and looked back to the cabin, where he could see El looking out the window. He shot her what he hoped would be a comforting smile, and walked off into the woods, towards Hawkins proper.


	6. Where There's Will...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a normal day in the cabin, until one of the children comes to John with an uncomfortable subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two uploads, one day, didn't think it would happen, did you?

Will comes to him first. The kid wants to enjoy the wonders of art with El, and while she’s a bit sad she’s not as good as Will is, her whole face brightens when Will says he knows she’ll get good, that he believes in her.

Cortana remarked that it was a bit cheesy to the SPARTAN, but he’s just glad El’s having fun.

Yet despite the light mood the two exude, John can’t help but see that there’s something darker lurking behind Will’s eyes, like the kid had to try and make an effort to be happy. El, if she picked up on it, didn’t mention it, and happily colored as Will nervously jittered.

John, who had lunch duty because he wasn’t letting a child anywhere near an open flame stove no matter how good they could cook, called the children in to eat. El had gone to use the restroom, and the SPARTAN took the chance presented to him.

“Will,” He asked, “Is something wrong?”

“How-“ Will stuttered like he wasn’t comfortable in his own skin. “How do you know something’s wrong?”

“I’m trained to be perceptive.” The SPARTAN answered. “Now, you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” Will wasn’t a marine under his command, he wasn’t going to order him around like one, “But I’d like to help, if I can.” That was the truth. If El’s friends were happy, it’d keep her happy, and by extension, John happy.

Will looked down at his food uncertainly. “You’re from the 26th century… right?”

John nodded. “Last time I checked; it was 2552.”

“Which will never stop being cool.” Will smiled. But it fell when his mind turned back to whatever issue was pressing him. “But… Are there… queer people in your time?”

Oh hell. John shouldn’t have opened his big mouth.

John’s eyebrows shot up like a rocket. “What?”

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped!” Will was quick to get out.

“No, you haven’t.” John replied just as quick. “Your question just caught me off-guard. Why?”

“It’s just…” Will continued. “That night in the school… we almost died. We almost all died, and it got me thinking. I’m still pretty young, and there’s still a lot I don’t know, about anything really, and at the top of that is… Whether or not I like girls or boys.”

Dammit, John thought, the kid should be having that discussion with his parents, not him. Part of the SPARTAN was flattered. It spoke of the trust Will already held in him, no doubt for saving him from the Demogorgon that night, but another part was wondering why the hell Will wasn’t having the conversation with Joyce.

“Why aren’t you having this conversation with Joyce?” The SPARTAN voiced his thoughts.

“I… I don’t want her to get mad.” Will stated.

John didn’t believe that. Even in the short amount of time the two had been in the vicinity of one another, Joyce just didn’t seem like the kind of woman who cared about that sort of thing.

All of this was getting awkward fast. A part of John was already berating himself for asking questions and wanted out of there fast, the other part told him that he’d faced down whole Covenant armadas and the Flood.

This couldn’t be worse than that.

John looked at Will. The kid had already been small and unassuming before, and he looked even more so now if that were possible.

A sound came from the other side of the cabin, and El came out from the bathroom. She stopped, looking confusedly at the two.

John looked back at Will, whose eyes had already locked squarely on El. It wasn’t a fearful stare, or even an embarrassed one, Will just looked at her like a deer in headlights.

“El,” John spoke up, “Can you go to your room for a second?” El’s eyes slightly widened, like she didn’t know what she did wrong. “You’re not in trouble, Will and I just need to talk about something for a minute.”

El visibly relaxed, and nodded, walking off to her room, and shutting the door behind her.

“Will,” John leveled once the door shut, “I’m not the person you should be having this conversation with. Your mom, or even your brother, would be a better choice.”

Will started to look downtrodden again.

“But,” The SPARTAN continued, “To answer your question from before, yes we have people like that in my time. Two of my fellow SPARTANs were some.”

“And?”

“It was perfectly common.” John stated. “In our time, we don’t even use labels, not because people like that don’t exist, but because the labels themselves started falling out of favor, even with the groups that invented them. Once humanity started expanding into the galaxy at large, people just stopped caring about what you did with who so long as it wasn’t criminal. The oddest thing about the relationship between my fellow SPARTANs was that it happened between two people raised together from the age of six, not that they were both women.” Maria and Alice. At least, until Alice had vanished into oblivion with Jerome and Douglas. Some of the few SPARTAN-IIs to be labeled as missing and it actually be true. “Besides, if it helps you out, I don’t think you’re… What was the word you used?” John had to ask. Even if he could pick up on the meaning of the word from context clues, he was still unfamiliar with the term.

“Queer.” Will repeated. “What makes you think so?”

“Because, you said you didn’t _know_ whether or not you like men or women.” The SPARTAN said. “Implying that you find attractive things in both. If that _is_ the case, and not me reading too far into what you said, then the word for you would be… Bisexual? I hope I got that right.”

“You did!” Cortana shouted from across the room. “You used a big word correctly, I’m so proud of you!”

“Ignore her.” The SPARTAN instructed. “But it ultimately doesn’t matter what you are, you like who you like regardless, end of story.”

“Yeah…” Will smiled to himself, the darkness leaving his eyes. “End of story. Thanks, Chief.”

“You just came to me with a deeply personal matter. Call me John.” John replied. “El, you can come out now.” Her door immediately swung open. The girl walked back over to the table, sat right down next to Will, and just smiled to him, Will sending one back.

John ate his food in comfortable silence while Will and El began talking. The conversation wasn’t comfortable for the SPARTAN, but the way he saw it, the kid needed the self-esteem boost.

He just hoped the others didn’t start to come to him after this. He could handle one awkward conversation with a near-stranger, not more.

Which naturally meant that he got a whole slew of other uncomfortable conversations lobbed onto him almost right after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, quick note about why I wrote this up. Number one, it provides some much needed character development for WIll. He was kind of nothing more than a living plot device, but that's not what I want from him in this new universe I'm building. Two, it also provides some more development for John, showing that he's starting to act more human around people who aren't El. Three, Will being entirely homosexual is something that gets done a lot in fan fictions, I wanted to do something different. Fourth, it provides the foundation for one of the developments I want to make in the future.
> 
> And I had my sister read over this one like five times trying to make sure it wouldn't accidentally offend anybody, so please, if you have an issue and want me to fix it, be kind about it and not go all shouty. I can't do shouty.
> 
> Also, tommorrow will be the continuation of the last chapter, I just wanted to get out another self contained one.


	7. Family Matters, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's search for El's true parentage leads him to Hawkins Library, where he makes a breakthrough.

It took John far longer to get into town than he was comfortable with. Every second El was left alone was another second for potential danger. He wanted to throw caution to the wind and just run into town, but it was a fairly busy road, and armor or not, rumors of a man running faster than a cheetah would spread fast.

“I need to get a bike.” John grumbled as he walked along. There were tales of Warthogs surviving re-entry intact, he should’ve cut one loose and rode it down.

Then he wouldn’t be stuck hiking into town in the middle of a freaking snowstorm.

“The Master Chief, complaining?” Cortana replied, a grin obviously in her voice.

“I’m not complaining.” John responded. “I’m pointing out a tactical weakness that needs to be rectified.”

“Sure…” Dripped the sarcasm from the AI.

The snow came down hard, and the SPARTAN pulled his coat tighter. He should’ve put his armor back on, but it took almost three hours to get it off with the primitive power tools he’d been able to find.

After almost forty-five minutes, he finally made it into downtown, and strode over to the library with purpose and determination.

He pulled open the door, and stepped inside, soaking up the warmth like he was a sponge. His eyes quickly darted around. There was no one there but him and the librarian.

Good. Less people to gossip.

He strode over to the desk, and the librarian looked up, her eyes looking John up and down like he was a sculpture.

After a moment, the librarian snapped out of it, and she flushed. “Welcome to Hawkins Library. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes.” John nodded, looking around. “I’m looking for some old newspaper articles.”

“Name?” She queried, pulling out a book.

“John…” The SPARTAN paused. “Halsey.”

“John Halsey.” The Librarian bit the inside of her cheek as she wrote down the name. “Never seen you in here before.” She remarked, closing the book. “Right this way.” She instructed, getting up from her seat.

The Librarian led John over a wall of drawers, standing free in the middle of some bookcases.

“We have the New York Times, the Post, all the big ones.” The Librarian pointed to each drawer. “Organized by year and topic. You can find the corresponding microfiche in the reading room.”

“Great.” John responded. “Thank you.” And the Librarian went back to her desk

John frowned to himself. Where would be a good place to start?

“Try starting from the most recent year.” Cortana whispered in his mind. “Work your way back from there.”

“That could be time consuming.” He thought back to her.

“You’re a SPARTAN.” The AI responded. “You can read three times as fast as any other human. Plus, you have me. We’ll get this done quick, trust me.”

John slid open one of the drawers and went looking back through the years. The SPARTAN’s fingers flew in between each little card, taking in the text written on each one faster than any other human would be able to read.

He was working his way through the cards, and he was forced to switch to the other drawer as his search came up empty.

Once he hit the 1970s however, things began to get interesting. Headlines such as ‘Hawkins Lab Blocks Inquiry’ and ‘Hawkins Lab Lawsuit Pending’ began to stand out. The SPARTAN had switched to autopilot, looking for any overt mentions of the Lab in the texts that he searched.

“Hold on a second!” Cortana suddenly shouted. “Go back! Did that say what I think it said!?” The SPARTAN frowned, but did as he was instructed, and flipped back a few cards. “It did… Holy hell. MKUltra.”

“What’s that?” He sent the inquiring thought.

“One of the biggest, most mysterious government sanctioned programs of the Cold War era.” Cortana replied, an almost reverent tone in her voice as the inner scientist within her became enthralled.

“What do you know about it?”

“Not much.” Cortana admitted. “Most of the materials related to the program were destroyed before they were declassified, and it’s not hard to see why. There were allegations of abuse, informed consent issues, pedophilia in a few cases, and the program drugged its test subjects out of their gourds with LSD, barbiturates, amphetamines, as well as a whole slew of other ‘pleasant’ accusations.”

“LSD?” The SPARTAN parroted. “What were they trying to accomplish?”

“Mind control.” Cortana stated. “And look at that headline. ‘Hawkins Lab Director and Former MKUltra Scientist Dr Martin Brenner Releases Statement.’”

The SPARTAN’s thoughts turned to an unpleasant conclusion. “You don’t think…”

“I do think.” Cortana replied. “Think about it. We know she’s Test Subject Eleven for something, but we never did find out what for, and in some accounts, there are stories of the CIA deliberately working at developing mind-reading powers… Maybe those stories are less embellished than we thought. Try looking for some more mentions of MK Ultra. If we can find other test subjects, maybe they could lead us down the right path.”

The SPARTAN thought back an affirmative and began looking through the files with even more intent. He stopped when his eyes took in the subject on one card.

“What about this?” He thought.

“Hmm… ‘Former test subject sues Hawkins Lab.’ That seems like a good start.” Cortana remarked. She noted the series of numbers on the card, which detailed the microfiche that corresponded to it, and the SPARTAN entered the reading room.

Cortana directed him over to a shelf, and the SPARTAN pulled a box off the shelf. Lifting the top, he flicked through each piece of microfilm, reading the numbers at the top.

Finally, he found the one he was looking for, and took it over to the reader. He fumbled with the unfamiliar technology for a moment, before realizing it needed to be placed on the platform at the bottom.

Finally, he turned the device on, and began looking through each article saved on the film. Finally, he came to the one he was looking for.

The newspaper article was like any other, the headline emblazoned at the top. However, there was a picture of a woman underneath it. John frowned. Something about her was… familiar.

“’Former Test Subject Sues Hawkins Lab.’” Cortana read for him. “’Terry Ives, a participant of the highly controversial MK Ultra program, has come forward with her intent to sue Hawkins Lab. However, unlike other former test subjects that have stated their own similar intent to sue, Ms. Ives is suing solely Hawkins Lab, not the government.’” She finished. “Terry Ives. Go back a few articles, I thought I saw a bigger headline with her name on it.”

The SPARTAN silently did as he was ordered and pulled up a different article.

“’Terry Ives Suing.’” Cortana read. “’After the district attorney’s office declined to press criminal charges citing lack of evidence, local resident Terry Ives is not giving up her search for justice for herself and her daughter, and this morning filed a lawsuit against research scientist Martin Brenner and his staff. Ms. Ives suit seeks unspecified damages against Dr. Brenner and his facility, alleging physical abuse, sleep deprivation, malnourishment, and… Kidnapping.’” The AI trailed off. “Wait, what did that part under the headline say!?” And John’s eyes shot back up to the top of the article. “’They took my daughter…’” Cortana read with an epiphany. “John… I think we might have her.”

John was coming to the same conclusion, but he _had_ to be skeptical. He couldn’t afford to go charging off on hunches. “What makes you so sure.”

“How about the part where it says, ‘Ms. Ives’s daughter, Jane, is reported to have been stillborn, but Ives alleges that she heard her daughter crying before going unconscious.’” Cortana rhetorically asked. “And I may not have the same amount of processing power as I would in your suit, but I’ve already run a facial recognition algorithm. She matches El close enough to be a relative.”

“You’re _sure_ we have her?” John repeated. “The last thing I want to do I show up at the wrong woman’s door, stirring up bad memories.”

John’s vision began to blur. “I’m sure.” Cortana struggled out, as she was hit by another rampancy spike. “Sorry, I was running the algorithm again.”

“It’s fine, so long as you made sure.” John responded. “Where do we go now?”

“Well, unless Miss Ives is already a resident of Hawkins, we aren’t just going to be able to look her up in the local phone book.” Cortana remarked, pausing for thought. “Chief Hopper might have some contacts.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.” The AI admitted. “But I think he’s the only one we can go to without stirring up suspicion. Let’s go, John.”

John nodded, committed the article to memory, making a printout in case he needed one, and put the film back where he found it. John left the library with all haste, and began heading towards the police station.


	8. Family Matters, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John returns to the cabin and has a heart to heart with El.

As it turned out, Hopper happened to be old friends with someone that had access to some sort of large government database. The Police Chief didn’t explain exactly who they were, or what their position was, but one phone call later, and Hopper was writing down an address on a notepad.

In a stroke of massive luck, the woman still lived in Indiana, only a relatively short drive away from Hawkins.

John had a name and an address, now all he needed was transport. Hopper, after some resistance, volunteered to take a day off and drive the other two where they needed to go.

But first, there was something that John needed to do.

He waded through the snow back to the cabin, and any lingering anxieties that he was feeling instantly left when he saw that everything was still in place. He walked up the steps, footfalls heavy, and knocked on the door, whistling ‘Olly Olly Oxen Free.’

A short moment later, the locks on the door released, and it swung open.

Before he could even step through all the way, El was already on him, her arms tightening around the SPARTAN in a steel grip.

“Well, someone’s happy to see us.” Cortana remarked. “Yank me.”

The SPARTAN shrugged off his heavy layers as El released him, and pulled Cortana’s chip out of his interface. He sat the AI down in her preferred spot in front of the TV, and turned back to El.

“So…” El began. “Did you find her?”

John shifted on his feet and nodded. “I think.”

El’s face lit up. “Did you talk to her? What’s she like? Does she look like me?”

John held out a hand and gestured for the girl to calm. “Slow down. I haven’t talked to her, she lives in a different town, and according to Cortana, she’s close enough in looks to be a close relative if nothing else. We have a strong hunch, but we still don’t know for sure.”

“Oh…” El’s smile fell. “What now?”

“Now,” John began, sitting down on the couch. El moved to join him. “Is the part I talk to you. Hopper said he’s willing to drive us out to Miss Ives’s place of residence, but I need to know if you’re ready.”

“Me?” El repeated.

“Yes, you.” John replied. “El, we’re about to meet a woman who, willingly giving you away to Brenner or not, hasn’t seen you since you’ve been born. You’ll be like a stranger to her. She’s had her time to come to peace with it, but you haven’t. I don’t want to see you get hurt if she doesn’t turn out the way you expect.”

El looked down, and for a moment the only sound in the room was the two breathing. “…You had a mom before Halsey, right?”

John nodded. “I did. I don’t remember her very well.” He confessed.

“Have you ever thought about trying to find her?” El questioned.

John paused for only a second. “I have.”

“And?” El asked. “What happened?”

John looked away. “She didn’t even know I existed.” Well, that was technically the truth. Before El could say anything else, he began speaking again. “In 2530, one of the outer colonies, Eridanus II, was… attacked.” He deliberately omitted the word ‘glassed,’ the conversation was about parents, not the Covenant. “I was sent to there to help evacuate the civilians before things passed the point of no return. While I was loading civilians on to the transports, I heard a woman calling my name. I turned to look at her, and it took me a moment, but I recognized her. I was about to ask how she knew it was me, but she called my name again, looking away from me. I followed where she was looking, and do you know what I saw?”

El shook her head.

“It was another me.” John hit her with the wham line. “When ONI was conscripting the SPARTANs initially, they had us replaced with clones, identical in every way, they even went so far as to use memory duplication to make sure that our birth parents couldn’t realize that we’d been replaced. Most clones were projected to die within a few months, but some survived long past that. Mine was one of them.”

“Did you… talk to him?” El questioned, now enthralled even more.

“No.” John shook his head. “There was the mission to focus on, and once the civilians had been evacuated, we split off from them. At the end of it all, I never got to talk to either of them.”

“I’m sorry.” El spoke.

“Don’t be.” John returned. “I made my peace with it long ago. And from where they stood, there was never anything wrong in the first place.”

“But I haven’t… ‘made peace’ with mine.” El stated. “I want to do it.”

“Then we’ll do it.” John resolved. “Let me give Hopper a call, let him know we’re going forward with this.”


	9. Family Matters, Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and El come face to face with Terry Ives.

John and El ducked down together in the back seat of Hopper’s blazer, as it drove through Hawkins. Once they had gotten out of the town’s limits, the two popped back up.

El looked out of the window of the blazer with wonder. Her eyes darted back and forth as she locked onto each tree, car, and sign that soon disappeared out of sight.

“Never been in a car before?” John gently rumbled.

El just shook her head, too focused on the sight out of the window. Eventually however, the constant darting of her eyes between objects became too much for her, and she had to look away.

John grabbed a book that had been brought along, and passed it to El, figuring that it would help her pass the time.

El flipped the pages open, and she began to read, her eyes soaking up each word like a sponge. Hopper turned on the radio and began listening.

El looked up, and the radio turned itself off, and she went back to reading.

Hopper turned the radio on again.

El started to look back up.

“El, no.” John gently stopped her before a conflict could break out. El didn’t look sheepish in the slightest.

“I’m trying to read.” She stated with finality.

“And Hopper’s the one driving us.” John returned. “Which is a job he can’t do if he’s fighting for control over the radio. End of discussion.”

El rolled her eyes, but conceded, and went back to her book.

They all sat like that for about twenty minutes, just listening to the music in silence.

Finally, Hopper turned a corner onto a long gravel road, the blazer jostling its occupants as it took the rough path. Hopper braked, and put it in park, the engine cutting off.

John turned to El, who had put her book away, and was looking upon the looming house with apprehension.

John leaned over to El. “Are you alright?”

El’s eyes were wide, and her breathing had gotten heavy.

“Hey,” John took one of her hands. “If anything happens, I will be right here with you. I won’t let anything happen.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

El let out a comforted nod, and the two exited Hopper’s blazer, the cop hanging back so they could do their thing.

John took the lead, surveying the area as they walked ever closer to the steps. El still had her hand firmly grasping John’s, even as they walked up the small steps of the house.

“Ready?” John asked, as they came to a stop at the door.

El, visibly uncertain, swallowed. “No. But yes.”

John nodded and rapped his knuckles against the door three times. The curtain that was behind the glass pane was brushed aside, revealing a brunette woman who looked at John and El with confusion. John gave a single wave, and the woman opened the door.

“Can I help you?” She asked, only just peeking out, as the chain on the back of the door kept it from opening all the way.

“Yes,” John shifted on his feet, “We’re looking for a woman named Terry Ives. Does she live here?”

The woman crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Who’s asking?”

“My name is John, this is…” He turned to El.

“Jane.” El cut in.

Immediately, the woman’s face twisted with rage. “Oh, you people have a lot of nerve coming around here…”

“Ma’am-“

“What, you didn’t think that you were the first trying to get free handouts!?” She shouted back. “People like you make me sick!” And she slammed the door, leaving no other room for discussion.

John sighed, as El looked like she’d been struck.

“Come on, El.” John jerked his head back to the blazer. “I don’t think she’s going to listen.”

El’s eyes narrowed at the door, and her look turned from shock to anger. “No.” She whispered.

John could hear the lock sliding on the other side of the door. “El…” He began.

“No.” She repeated, as the door swung open by itself. Blood was dripping from her nose now, and the woman stood on the other side, looking on with awe and a bit of fear. “I want to see mama.” El forced out.

“Um…” The woman swallowed. “Right this way.”

El took point ahead of John, as the woman led them down a hallway. As the woman led them to a doorway, she stopped, awkwardly clasping her hands together. El turned the corner first, and her eyes widened as she looked in.

Sitting in a rocking chair, blankly staring at a television while mumbling incoherently, was Terry Ives, recognizable even though the photograph John first saw her in was in inverted black and white. She slowly rocked back and forth, as she stared at the TV.

“Mama?” El questioned as she approached. Terry didn’t give any indication that she heard the words, or even noticed the presence of the two strangers. “Mama, can you hear me?” El got down on her knees in front of Terry. “Mama, it’s me…” El swallowed. “Jane. I’m here.”

Terry finally turned, making eye contact with El, yet still with that same blank stare. She kept on mumbling, so low that even John couldn’t pick out what the woman was saying.

El turned back to the other woman. “What’s wrong with mama?” She asked, her voice cracking.

The other woman couldn’t meet El’s gaze. She stayed silent for a moment, before turning to John. “Who are you? Really?”

John didn’t answer, as he turned back to look at Terry in the chair, and El on the verge of tears. He knew too well about getting hopes up, but he let El lead the way, and it was already coming back to bite. He didn’t feel angry, just… sad. At least he got a mother figure in Doctor Halsey, but poor El…

He knew all of this was a bad idea, and the way things were turning out, he was being proven right.

Becky, introduced herself properly after that, and led the two into her kitchen, sitting them down at the table.

“I just need a little help understanding.” Becky stated, looking across at the two. “Where did she come from? Where has she been all this time?” She questioned, gesturing at El. “And why is she with you?” She asked of John.

The SPARTAN leaned back. “The Lab in Hawkins.” He stated for both questions. “And she’s only been with me for the past few weeks. I’ve been taking care of her.”

“Terry was right…” Becky choked out. “All this time, I never believed her, but she was right…”

El looked into the adjacent room. “She won’t get better…” She began. “Will she?”

Becky looked down. “They don’t think so, no.” She gently responded. “But she’s not in any pain. She’s just stuck, they think. Like in a dream. A long dream.”

El was silent. “Is it a good dream?”

“I hope so.”

El sniffled. “Is it the same dream?”

“We don’t know.” Becky admitted. “Sometimes she says different words. But usually just those.”

El began to quietly sniffle, as she looked over at Terry.

Becky reached out a hand and placed it on El’s. “She always believed you were out there.” She choked out, beginning to tear up herself. “She always believed you would come home.”

El looked back at Becky. “Home?”

“Yeah, home.” Becky said. “There’s… something I want to show you. If you want to see it.”

El looked back over at John, who had only a supporting hand on her shoulder, and back at Becky, giving a single nod.

Becky got up from the table, and led them up the staircase, to a door at the end of the hall. She pushed the door open, and stepped out of the way, allowing El access.

El walked into the room gingerly, taking in everything. The walls were a pasty pink color, and baby toys that had never been used were strewn about the room, a crib with a stuffed animal set against the wall.

John hung back but was not ignorant of the full meaning of the room. It was a snapshot, a monument to a childhood that should’ve happened, but was torn away by greedy men. And as he looked inside, El walking around curiously with tears pooling in her eyes, John began to feel… what was that?

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It burned through his veins, and his fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he began to tense.

Oh, that’s what anger was like, wasn’t it?

John felt emotions, it was a simple fact, but anger like this…

He hadn’t felt anger like this since… well, ever.

El picked up the stuffed bear from inside the old crib. She smiled slightly, looking down at it. “Pretty.” She whispered.

“I can… Get you a real bed.” Becky began, stepping closer to El. “And you can stay here with me, if you want. How does that sound?”

El looked surprised, and she turned to John.

Despite the SPARTAN’s every last instinct now screaming at him to shut her down then and there, John was rational about the situation. “It’s your decision. I can’t choose for you.” He forced himself to be level. For the first time, he found himself cursing his loyalty to his friends.

El looked uncertainly between John and Becky. “I don’t know… Maybe.” Choices were difficult for her already, never mind such a large one.

“Well…” Becky shifted. “Take your time. Think about it. I don’t need an answer now, or even today. Just when you’re ready.”

El let out a breath and gave a shaky nod. She turned around, and was about to say something, when something behind the two adults caught her attention, and she began walking out into the hallway. One of the wall sconces was flickering.

“El?” John questioned, though given the child’s own confused response, he could guess she wasn’t responsible.

Becky, however, just looked on in exasperation, as if it happened a hundred times a day. “Oh, yeah, that. That happens sometimes. Old house, bad wiring…” Another light at the end of the hall flickered, and El’s head snapped towards it. “Or if you ask my crazy aunt Shirley, it’s ghosts.” Becky finished.

El marched toward the light, and she turned to the right, looking down the stairs. She began walking down, John and Becky in confused pursuit. El came to a stop in front of a lamp on the kitchen counter, looking at it curiously.

“Sweetie, really, it’s just the wiring.” Becky said.

“No…” El stepped back from the lamp, looking through the house at Terry, who was still rocking back and forth. She shot a glance at the two adults and walked into the living room where Terry sat. “It’s mama.” El stated softly, sitting on her knees in front of the woman. El reached up to wipe something off of Terry’s face.

John sharply inhaled when El turned around to present the substance to them.

Blood.


	10. Family Matters, Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El's search for her mother reaches its end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's ending is either gonna be really cheesy, or tug at your heartstrings. Or both. I hope both. I was going for both.

When the TV set itself to static, El immediately went into action, looking around for something to use as a blindfold. El tied it around her head and sat down in front of Terry, the woman still staring ahead with a blank look.

“It’s okay if I sit here, right?” Becky asked of El.

“Yes.” El softly replied, securing the cloth with a tug.

“A-and I won’t mess anything up?” The woman stammered.

“No.”

“Okay…” Becky whispered. “If you talk to Terry, will you tell her I love her very much? And that… I’m sorry I didn’t believe-”

“Stop talking.” El cut her off.

“El, manners.” John warned.

“Sorry.” The child replied.

El’s breathing began to slow, and she visibly relaxed, the lights flickering before going steady again.

“Does she…” Becky whispered to John. “Does she do this often?”

“Not for a few weeks.” John replied just as softly.

“Mama…” El softly spoke. “Mama it’s me… Jane. I’m here…”

Terry’s mumbling began to speed up, as she started rocking back and forth faster as well.

El’s breathing started to quicken.

“What’s happening?” Becky questioned.

“I don’t know.” John replied. “I’ve only seen her do this a handful of times.”

El started gasping, and threw off her blindfold, blood beginning to drip from her nose. She looked up at Terry tearfully, and crawled across the floor to John, leaning into his chest.

“What happened?” He asked. “Are you okay?”

“Mama…” El whispered. “The bad men, they…” She choked out as tears began to fall. “It was the same thing, over, and over, and over…”

“What did…” Becky began. “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing…” El responded, face twisted by sadness. “She showed me… She… She was on the floor, screaming, and then she was in a… a… I saw me, as a baby, they were taking me. Then the sunflowers, she shot someone, and then it was me again, but I was older, and then…” El choked. “I could feel it… It hurt.”

“What did?” John softly inquired.

“They hurt her.” El cried. “She was trying to find me, and they hurt her, and I could feel it.”

“It’s okay.” John comforted. “I’m here.”

“John…” El sniffled. “I want to go home.”

Becky, to the woman’s credit, didn’t look hurt by the implication that El didn’t think of her house as home, and the SPARTAN nodded, standing up.

“Okay.” He rumbled. “We can go.” El took his hand, and the SPARTAN turned to Becky. “I’m sorry we showed up like this. And that we have to go so suddenly.”

“Don’t be.” Becky swallowed. “At the end of it all, it’s at least nice getting some peace about what happened. And…” She looked uncertainly at El. “I don’t know if I’d be that good, taking care of a kid and Terry at the same time.” She led the two outside; the sun’s rays a golden orange as the star began to set. “And if you two want to visit her… all you have to do is call.”

John nodded. “Thanks.”

Becky returned it and leveled a sad smile at El. “Goodbye, Jane. It was very nice to meet you.”

El returned it with her own sad nod, and Becky went back inside, the door locking behind them.

The two approached Hopper’s blazer and could see the inquisitive look on the cop’s face through the window. Mercifully, Hopper took note of El’s tears, and decided not to say anything, simply putting the vehicle into gear, pulling away from the Ives household.

“John…” El spoke up softly. “Thank you.”

“For what?” The SPARTAN replied.

“For doing this for me.” She answered, and yawned. “Thank you.” Her eyes drifted shut a moment later, drained from the experience.

The rest of the drive back was quiet, the only company John had the rest of the drive was Hopper and his own thoughts.

By the time they returned to Hawkins, night had fallen with the moon rising into the cold winter sky. As they rode in silence, John stared into the dark void above, quietly wondering what had happened to Doctor Halsey since FIRST STRIKE.

He never really thought about it before now.

But it really didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

Hopper finally pulled up to the cabin and put the blazer in park to allow John out. The SPARTAN briefly considered waking El up.

 _‘No.’_ John thought. _‘Better let her sleep.’_ And he reached forward to pick her up. He shut the door, and shared one last nod with Hopper, as he climbed the stairs to the cabin.

Hopper pulled away, and the wooden door creaked open. The inside was dark, yet the television was on at low volume.

Cortana took one look at El’s sleeping form in John’s arms and smiled.

John walked past the AI, into El’s room. He pulled back the cover on top, and gently sat El down on the mattress, removing her shoes so she wouldn’t get dirt on the sheets. He put the cover back over her and moved to leave the room.

But before he fully shut the door behind him, the SPARTAN took one last glance inside.

“Goodnight, El.” He softly said.

And as the door creaked shut, he didn’t hear her sleep-addled reply.

“Goodnight dad.”


	11. Night Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of them experience nightmares.

Both of them have nightmares.

The first one happens to El, dead in the middle of the night. John is sleeping when a scream comes from her room and the whole cabin shudders.

The SPARTAN is on his feet and sprinting to her room before the sound can even finish.

When he forces the door open, El is floating inches above her bed, tossing and turning in the air as whatever nightmare she’s experiencing claws at her mind. She screams again, and a lamp goes flying, John having to duck so he won’t be hit by the speeding object.

“El!” John calls as he approaches. “It’s only a nightmare! You need to wake up!”

Still, there is no response. Hoping that what he’s about to do won’t accidentally make it worse, John reaches out a hand, and clasps it on El’s.

The girl’s eyes snap open, and she falls to the bed. El looks around with confusion, breathing heavily.

“John?” She chokes out.

“It’s okay,” He replies, “I’m here. You were just having a nightmare.”

“Night-mare?” She repeats, unfamiliar with the word. El starts to tear up. “It felt real.”

“Most dreams do when you’re having them.” John explains. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk?”

“Yeah.” John nods. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but my mother used to say that talking about nightmares made them less real. That way they wouldn’t hurt as much.”

El nods blankly and has to psyche herself up for a moment before speaking again. “We were back in Mike’s house, when the bad men came. We ran like we did before, but they got us this time…” She sniffles. “They strap everyone down to tables, and they… They made me hurt you… I didn’t want to, but every time I didn’t, they would hurt me until I did.”

“It’s alright.” John places a hand on her shoulder. “I’m right here, and I’m fine. See?”

“Still feels bad.” She hiccups.

“I know.” John replies. “Nightmares aren’t a fun thing.”

“How…” El begins. “How do I stop another one from happening?”

John sadly shakes his head. “I don’t know. Different people have different ways, all you can do is try to figure out what works for you. I normally just go back to sleep. Nightmares don’t usually continue after you wake up from one.”

“Go back to sleep…” El repeats. “Okay.” She lays back down, and starts to close her eyes, but not before she can say something else to the SPARTAN. “John?”

“Yes?”

“Can you stay there… Until I fall asleep?” She meekly requests.

The SPARTAN offers a kind smile and nods. “I’ll be right here.”

“Thank you.” She replies, closes her eyes, and her breathing steadies.

He doesn’t move until he’s absolutely sure she’s asleep.

****

John also gets nightmares.

Sometimes it’s reliving the excruciating pain of his augmentations, only a hundred times worse and he’s conscious during all of it.

Other times, he’s on Halo, the first Halo, trying to escape as the Pillar of Autumn’s engines explode, taking the ring with it, and he doesn’t make it out in time.

In others, he’s on the Ark, racing to stop Truth from activating the rings. He fails to make it to the controls in time, and the galaxy falls silent, the life forms on the Ark being the only things left.

This time, he’s surrounded by the Flood. Putrid Flood combat forms leap at him screeching, clawing at the SPARTAN with their one desperate drive to consume.

They wear the faces of those that John knows. Doctor Halsey, Fred, Linda, Kelly, more SPARTANs than he can name in the heat of the moment, all twisted and broken by the parasitic infection. He doesn’t want to kill them, but he has to, because he knows that if he doesn’t, the Flood will consume him next. And that’s something he doesn’t want to contemplate.

The ethereal reflection of Cortana continuously wails in agony, and the Gravemind laughs, taunting the SPARTAN with the voices of those it’s consumed.

For every Flood form he cuts down, a thousand more appear, and the Gravemind’s demented cackling grows ever louder.

“Why are you here, Reclaimer?” The Gravemind sinisterly rumbles around him. “The man out of time… Ah, but which is it?”

John ignores the twisted, corrupted cacophony of voices as the ammo counter on his assault rifle hits zero for the last time. He throws the rifle to the ground and pulls the shotgun off his back.

“Like water, I ebb and flow.” The Gravemind booms, as shadow begins to fall on the arena the SPARTAN has found himself in. “Twisting, churning, receding, evaporating…”

John looks up, upon the Gravemind’s colossal form. A green, fleshy spider-like monstrosity stitched together from the corpses of a thousand dead towers over them all.

John’s shields break, and he falls to the ground, the Flood piling on top of him.

“But the storm approaches…” The Gravemind growled. “And with it, the hour of my return.”

John’s eyes snap open, the SPARTAN taking a deep breath. He feels something grabbing on his arm, and he turns to the left.

El is there, concern plastered on her face. It’s clear from the way she’s struggling to hold her eyes open that he accidentally woke her up.

“I woke you up, didn’t I?” John inquires, and El nods. “I’ll try to be quiet, next time.”

“No.” El shakes her head. “You were quiet. But not out here.” She states. She points to his head. “Loud thoughts.”

John sighs and sits up. “I was having a nightmare. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

El tilts her head. “Tell me about it.”

John shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please.” El requests.

John wants to tell her to drop it, but when El had her nightmare, she shared the details, even though he said she didn’t have to. The SPARTAN sighs.

“You saw me in cryo sleep.” John recalls, looking at El. “Do you know how I got there?”

El shakes her head.

“Before that, I was on this ringworld. A kind of space station, but it had land and water on the inside. It was called Halo.” John tells her. “But it had a purpose.”

El tilts her head. “What was it?”

“A long time ago, the people that built Halo were fighting a war.” John explains. “With an enemy they called the Flood. The Flood was a parasite that infected everything it touched, and it spread so far and so quickly that Halo was the only thing that could stop them. In my nightmare, I saw everyone I cared about, but they had all been infected by the Flood. The Flood just kept coming and coming, I was running out of weapons, and there was no Halo to stop them.”

El leans forward. “What happened then?”

“The Flood got me.” John finishes. “And then I woke up.”

El pauses for a moment. “You’re alright. No Flood.” She says.

John smiles down at her. “That’s right. No Flood.” John looks over at the digital clock. _1:00_ , it blinks. “Thanks. Now, you should get back to sleep.”

“No.” El denies. “I stay.”

John cocked an eyebrow.

“Until you fall asleep.” She elaborates. “No more nightmares.”

John sighs, and lays back down, looking over at El.

“Sleep.” She orders, just standing there.

John rolls his eyes, but closes them, and his breathing slows comfortably. He doesn’t time it, but soon he’s back in dreamland.

Both of them have nightmares. And when they do, they help each other through them.


	12. Christmas, John-117 Style, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El has another request for John. This time, it's Christmas

**_ December 18th, 1983 _ **

“John,” El spoke up suddenly one day, “Are we gonna have Christmas?”

John looked up from where he was working on one of his armor pieces, trying to at least buff out the scratches. El was sitting on the couch behind Cortana, watching a cartoon with a furry green person in a Santa suit. “Christmas?”

“Yeah.” The girl nodded. “Remember before we went to go see mama? I was talking about it with Will.”

“Right.” The SPARTAN recalled. “But why do you want to celebrate Christmas?” He inquired. The holiday didn’t really matter all that much, in his opinion. It was just another day that, for whatever reason, had been marked as special. In his experience, things were so busy with the Covenant that he and the other SPARTANs never even really noticed its existence until it had come and gone.

“Well, Will started talking to me over the radio.” El began, recalling the events of the other morning. “And he said he wanted to know the Christmas presents that his mom was getting him. I asked him what Christmas was, because I didn’t know, and he went quiet for a little while. Then he said the more… religious people celebrate it for someone called ‘Jesus,’ whoever he is, but most people do it to show how much they care for others.”

“So that’s why you want to celebrate it.” John deduced, and El nodded in confirmation. “I’ll be honest, I’ve never really celebrated the holiday myself, but do you know what I think?” El tilted her head. “I think we can take a crack at it.”

A smile broke out on El’s face, and the inhabitants of the cabin began drawing up their battle plans.

“Okay, so, Christmas is in one week. I don’t know why the both of you waited so late, but we still have a little bit of time.” Cortana began, as John procured a notepad and pencil. El was by his side, ready to suggest ideas, “The first thing people do around Christmastime is put up a Christmas tree. For that, we’ll need lights, ornaments, and a stand for it.”

“Tree, lights, ornaments, and a stand.” John repeated, writing it down. “Next?”

“Christmas Dinner.” Cortana answered. “On holidays like this and Thanksgiving, it’s customary to cook larger meals than normal.”

“Sounds wasteful.” John remarked.

“Leftover food is usually eaten the day after.” Cortana outlined.

“Will told me that his mom said we could come over to their house for Christmas dinner if we wanted.” El spoke up. “So we wouldn’t be alone.”

John nodded and wrote down ‘Dinner at Byers’s.’ “What next?” He questioned.

“Presents.” Cortana stated. “A big part of this holiday is the exchange of gifts. I don’t know if that’s how it always was or something only introduced by capitalist societies, but regardless, it’s bad form to show up to any sort of Christmas function without gifts.”

“Gifts.” John wrote down. He turned to El. “Do you have anything in mind? For you and for the others?”

El pursed her lips and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to improvise.” John said. “First thing’s first… A tree.”

* * *

“What about that one?” John pointed to a fir tree in the snow, an axe in hand.

“Too short.” El stated. “It has to be a big one.”

“Says who?” John asked, looking down at El.

“Will said that for Christmas trees you want to get one that’s big.” El explained. “That way it’s the…” El paused, trying to find the word. “Centerpiece of the room.”

“Alright.” John responded. He walked over to another tree, taller than him by a good foot. “What about this one?”

“That’s too big.” She denied. “We’d have to put it outside. Then why get a tree at all?”

“Good point.” The SPARTAN conceded. His eyes went searching again, looking through the trees. His eyes landed on a tree not far from them, and he approached it. It came up to about an inch above him, and the SPARTAN looked down at El. “How about this one? Not too short, not too tall.”

El frowned and her brow furrowed in contemplation. After a solid minute, she nodded her approval. “Perfect.”

“Glad you approve.” The SPARTAN remarked. “Stand back. I don’t want it to fall on you in case I lose my grip.”

El took a few steps back, as John bent down to the trunk. He grasped onto the trunk with one hand, the other lining up the axe. John, satisfied with the angle, swung the axe, his augmentations doing well to help the process along.

In about three swings, the tree was separated from its roots.

“There.” The SPARTAN said, hefting the tree over his shoulder, caring more about the efficiency of transporting it back rather than getting needles all over himself.

Satisfied with their pick, the two walked back to the cabin. El got the door for him, and John carried the tree into the cabin, sitting it down in the middle of the place. He looked around for a place to stick the tree, finding the perfect spot in an unoccupied corner past the TV.

“Did you seriously go out and cut that without getting a stand for it first?” Cortana questioned as the SPARTAN passed into her line of sight.

“Yes.” John replied, trying to stand it up in the corner.

“Did it occur to you that it was going to be quite the balancing act trying to decorate that thing _without_ the stand?” Cortana crossed her arms.

John sighed. “No.”

“And this is why I insist you bring me along on these things.” Cortana let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, you have to go to the general store anyway for decorations. Get a stand while you’re there.”

“Will it last that long without water?” John questioned.

“It’s a tree, John, not a fish.”

“Right.” John walked into his corner of the cabin, and reached into the money safe, pulling out one hundred dollars. As he came back into the living room, he turned to El. “I’m going out, but I’ll leave Cortana here.” He stated, and El nodded. “If you get bored, ask her to tell you a story. I’ll be back soon.” And he moved to exit the cabin.

Cortana turned to El. “So… You ever watch Godzilla?”

El tilted her head. “God-Zilla?” She questioned.

Cortana allowed a mischievous smile to take her over. “Oh, you are going to love this one, trust me kid.”

****

The hike to Downtown Hawkins was just as unpleasant as it was the last time he took it. John took the cold on the chin, however, as he waded down the snowy road into Downtown.

John walked through the square, into Melvald’s General Store. The bell dinged, and Joyce, who was at a register, looked up from a book.

“John.” She greeted, recognizing the man out of his armor. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

“Me neither.” John admitted. “But El had a whim, and when she has whims…”

“You had to indulge.” Joyce finished, smiling slightly. “Kids. Even when you don’t want to give it to them, they have a way of getting what they want from you.”

“Right.” John agreed.

“So, if you don’t mind me prying, what’d you come in for?” Joyce politely inquired.

“El wants to have Christmas.” John answered. “I came here for a tree stand and decorations.”

“Christmas.” Joyce repeated. “It’s her first one I’m assuming?”

“It’s the first real one for all three of us.” John answered.

“Well then, let’s make a good first impression.” Joyce smiled, stepping out from behind the register. “Tree stands and decorations are over this way.” She guided him down an aisle. “Have you ever decorated a tree before?”

“No.” John shook his head.

“So, you probably don’t have any concrete ways of how you do it, do you?” Joyce assumed.

“That would be right.”

“In that case,” Joyce gestured at the boxes of ornaments stacked on the shelves. “What looks best?”

“Hm.” John crossed his arms. Truth be told, all of the ornaments looked haplessly garish to the SPARTAN. Things such as tiny plastic reindeer, trees, and balls were decked out in bright silvers, gold, red, blue, green, orange, and purple. It would make a normal human grimace, never mind a SPARTAN with vision as enhanced as his. “How about one of every box?”

“That’s a lot of boxes to carry.” Joyce commented. “But it’s your tree, not mine.” And she stacked the boxes up in his arms. “Now, a tree topper.”

“A topper?” The SPARTAN frowned.

“It’s a special ornament that goes on the top.” Joyce explained. She pointed him to another section of the shelves. “Like these ones.”

Angels, stars, and bows looked back at John, and the SPARTAN was faced yet again with indecision. “What do you think El would like?”

“I think she’d be happy with whatever you brought back.” Joyce answered.

“We could always put Cortana at the top of the tree.” John snarked.

Joyce grimaced. “And have her go on the warpath again? No thank you.”

“She’d be fine as long as she could still watch her TV.” John replied. He looked down at the options for a solid minute, before going for the star. It wasn’t much, but it reminded him of space. “Now?”

“Lights and a tree stand.” Joyce instructed, pulling him over to the lights. “What kind do you prefer, whites or colors?”

“I think all people deserved to be valued equally.”

Joyce huffed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

John contemplated it for a second. “How about both?”

“You can do that.” Joyce nodded. “It’s a lot of lights, but it’ll probably be worth it in the end. How many do you think you’ll need?”

John’s brow furrowed for a moment. “Four boxes of both.”

Joyce nodded, and set the boxes on the top of the stack. “And,” She reached over for a tree stand, “There. You’re all set. Was there anything else you needed?”

“I don’t think I could stack it up higher if there was.” John replied, balancing the boxes precariously. He followed Joyce back to the register, and sat the boxes down on the counter, allowing Joyce to ring them up.

“Okay, that’s going to be $37.83.” Joyce stated. John handed her over the money, and she handed him back the change, before putting the assorted items in bags. John took the bags, and moved to exit, but not before Joyce could call to him again. “You know, if you and El don’t want to be alone for Christmas, you can always come over to our house.”

“I know. Will told El.” John confirmed.

“And?” Joyce searched.

“I would hate to impose.”

Joyce scoffed. “You saved my son from a monster. You wouldn’t be imposing. Besides, you won’t be the only adult there, Hopper’s coming over too.”

John contemplated it for a moment. “I’ll think about it. See you later.”

“See you, John.”

And the SPARTAN left the store, beginning the trek back to the cabin.


	13. Christmas, John-117 Style, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's their first time decorating a Christmas tree. It goes better than expected.

When John came through the door, Cortana and El were both watching TV together. El immediately got up from her seat, and rushed over to John, curiously peeking into the bags he carried.

John took the tree stand while El looked through the bags, and set the tree in it, filling the bottom of the stand with water. He took a step back and looked to Cortana.

“Better?” The SPARTAN asked of the AI.

“Very.” Cortana replied. “While it would’ve been funny watching you try to juggle decorating the tree while balancing it at the same time, it would’ve gotten old fast.”

John walked back over to where El was, who had taken all of the boxes out of the bags already, opening them and examining the ornaments inside. He picked up the boxes, sitting them on the couch, and began moving towards the tree.

“Really, John?” Cortana questioned with her hands on her hips, making the SPARTAN pause.

“What?” He questioned.

“The lights go on first.” Cortana pointed out. “So, you know, you’re not trying to put them on while there are other ornaments in the way?”

“Right.” John sighed. El handed him a box of white lights, and the SPARTAN popped the box open, taking out the strand inside. He unfurled the strand, and looked at it, back at the tree, and back at the strand. There was no way they were going on the tree in this state.

“Here.” El took one end of the lights, and walked to the other end of the room, stretching the strand taut. She plugged it into the wall, and it lit up. El stared at the bright lights for a moment, before unplugging it, and handing it back to John.

Cortana chuckled, shaking her head. “For one of the best humans ever produced, you really can be clueless sometimes, can’t you?”

“Says the one who had to point out that a giant metal tunnel was not a natural formation.” John replied, beginning to wrap the strand around the tree.

“Okay, first of all, fuck you.” Cortana replied.

“Language, Cortana.” John chastised, as he tucked the strand of lights behind a branch.

“Second, we were on an alien ringworld with natural environments.” Cortana continued, uninterrupted by John’s statement. “I was pointing out that since the tunnel was overtly artificial, the creators obviously intended for it to be a passage to someplace else.”

“Of course.” John replied, going for another strand. “I’m sure it was that, and not that you were on loan from ONI’s Department of Redundancy Department.”

Cortana looked at him, wide-eyed. “Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, the most professional SPARTAN in history, making a _joke?”_

“It happens on occasion.” John replied, beginning to wrap the next strand around the tree.

“I don’t get it.” El said.

“It’s an inside joke.” Cortana explained.

El looked around. “But we’re already inside, I still don’t get it.”

Cortana guffawed. “No, sweetie, it’s something that’s only funny between a certain group of people.”

“Oh.” El nodded with understanding, as she pulled the strand to the other side for John. The SPARTAN took the strand and wrapped it until it ran out again, going for another one.

They kept on like that for a while, exchanging banter while the SPARTAN put the lights on the tree. As soon as the white lights ran out, El went for the box of colored lights, plugged them in, and stared at them mesmerized for a solid minute, only snapping out of it when John reminded her that they had to get the tree finished.

The SPARTAN repeated the steps with the colored lights, until the strands ran out, and he turned to El.

“Ready for the actual ornaments?” He asked.

El nodded excitedly and grabbed a few of the balls.

Time went by quickly for the two as they hung the ornaments up, Cortana simply looking on. El, suddenly turning to Cortana, and held out an ornament with an inquiring look.

It took the AI just a second to realize what El was getting at, and Cortana smiled, pointing at one branch on the tree. El placed the ornament on the branch, and she turned back to the AI with a smile.

Soon, they worked their way through all of the boxes, the ornaments evenly distributed across the branches. El, wanting to see the tree lit up, moved to plug in the lights, but John stopped her.

“Not yet.” He denied. “There’s still one last thing.” He procured the tree topper, and was about to put it on top himself, when he looked down at El. “How about you do the honors?”

El’s face brightened, and she took the star from John. She focused intently at the star, and released her grip, the object itself still hanging in the air. It floated upward gently, onto the top of the tree. The cord coming from the star plugged itself into the lights, and the lights plugged themselves into the wall, the entire tree lighting up in a mix of white and rainbow, amplified by the reflective ornaments hanging off the tree.

“Oh…” Cortana breathed. “There are plenty of pictures, but seeing one for real… It’s beautiful.”

“Pretty.” El smiled.

“I suppose it is.” John granted. “There’s one item off our list.”

“Great.” Cortana said. “But since you can’t have Christmas dinner until the actual day itself, that leaves us with one other task. Gift buying.”

John grimaced. He really didn’t want to make another journey back through the snow so soon.

“Don’t be a baby.” Cortana chastised. “Unless… You would rather El have Christmas without presents?”

John looked down at the girl, into her big doe eyes.

The SPARTAN sighed, knowing that the decision was already made. He walked into his corner of the cabin, grabbing a box that was specifically put together should El need to go out into public with him.

He didn’t tell her that it was there, it would only spur her into doing something impulsive, and with it being only a month since the incident at the school…

But he could afford to take the risk this time. Things had cooled down since then, literally and figuratively, and even without MJOLNIR armor, he could take on a whole platoon without breaking a sweat.

Grabbing the supplies he needed, the SPARTAN closed the lid on the box, and moved back into the main room.

“Here.” John said, placing a brown wig on El’s head. Her hair was getting longer, but it was still nowhere near long enough to be in line with most girls. He also handed her a pair of sunglasses.

El looked at them curiously, before putting them on, looking around the cabin. “Dark.”

“They’re designed to keep out the sun.” John explained. “But we’re using them to make sure people only see part of your face.”

“Will that work?” El inquired.

John nodded. “People aren’t good at recalling faces that are being obstructed, even partially. You ready?”

El put on her heavy winder coat, and turned to John, nodding once. She took the SPARTAN’s hand in her own, and the two walked out, into the cold.

“Hey!” Cortana yelled. “Don’t forget about me!”

John calmly walked back in, picked up Cortana’s chip, and slid it into his neural interface, walking back out.


	14. Christmas, John-117 Style, Part Three

Picking out things for El was actually pretty easy. She didn’t have any preferences as far as what she liked to read, listen to, and play with, yet at least.

Of course, the whole point of getting Christmas presents for your kids was that they weren’t supposed to know what they were until they opened them, so John had to keep what he got for her out of his sight until they could be put in bags.

However, John brought El along with him for a reason. The other kids had spent more time around El than they did with him. She’d probably be able to give the SPARTAN ideas of what to get the kids. He probably would’ve been better of not bothering, but he did kind of owe them, for putting up with him and El for those few days.

So that’s what they were doing. The two dashed from store to store, looking for things that they think the other kids would like. For such a small town, Hawkins held a fair variety of stores for almost anything.

“Is that a RadioShack?” Cortana questioned, seeing the light sign of one store. “Hmm, that whole company goes out of business in 2015.”

“How come?” John mentally inquired back. The SPARTAN didn’t really care about the details, but he liked to indulge Cortana.

“Failure to keep up with internet-based shopping services like Amazon.” The AI explained. “Regardless of what happens to it in a few decades, it’ll probably be a good place to scope out for potential gifts.”

John nodded, taking Cortana’s recommendation, and walked into the store, El trailing not far behind.

“Welcome in.” A man behind the counter greeted politely. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Just browsing for now.” John answered, looking at the positively ancient -to him, at least- technologies dotted around the store.

“What about this?” El asked suddenly, holding up something called a ‘Walkman.’

“What is that?” John questioned.

“Will was saying about how he has all of these music tapes, but he can’t listen to them outside of his house or the car because he doesn’t have one of these.” El explained. “I think it’d be a good one to get for him.”

“Well, if you think it’s a good idea…” John gently took the device from her. “That’s Will down, what about the others?” He asked, walking around the store.

“Hm.” El chewed on her lip. “Oh, what about this?” She held up a headset like the one Dustin used while they were being chased by Brenner and his men. “For Lucas.”

“You sure he would like it?”

El nodded. “He was complaining about how he had to duck tape his radio to his bike’s handlebars. As for the others… We might need to go to another store.”

“Alright.” John allowed. He paid for the Walkman and the goggles, and he allowed El to lead him out of the store. They continued like that for a while, surveying every store they came across, until they finally wound up in another hobby shop.

“Look.” El pulled John down an aisle to something that caught her eye.

“Model kits.” John recognized. He’d never messed around with any himself, but he could understand the satisfaction of putting together something yourself, and having it turn out visually pleasing to look at.

El picked up the box, turning it to John. “Dustin.”

“He does seem like a person who’d like a Millennium Falcon model kit.” Cortana remarked.

“Right.” John agreed. “That leaves one last person. Mike.”

“Well… he likes games?” Cortana put in.

“We could always just give him cash.” John stated.

“No.” El vehemently shook her head. “How about…” She searched. “This?”

She held out a thick, leather-bound book, and a black ballpoint pen.

“Won’t that seem cheap?” John questioned. “We’re going all out for the others; I don’t want Mike to feel left out.”

“Mike wants to be a writer.” El stated with finality. “But all he writes right now are the… champagnes for his game. I think it’ll help him get started on the right path. And we can write something on the first page, so he knows it’s not just a book.”

“Campaign.” John corrected. “And that’s a very thoughtful sentiment behind it.”

“Thanks.” El grinned. “Besides, it’s an expensive pen. And we can get it...” She read something off the tag. “Engraved.”

“How expensive?” John questioned, and El turned the price tag towards him.

John almost choked at the price.

* * *

A whole lot of presents later, and all the gift wrap to go with them, John and El were back in the cabin, wrapping the presents to give to the kids.

“Why do we need to wrap them?” El questioned. “It’s a lot of paper.”

“Typically, you want the presents you give someone to be a surprise for them.” Cortana answered, turning the tv on _Star Trek_. “And it’s fun to tear it off. Or so I hear.”

El slowly nodded, turning to John. “Are we gonna wrap mine?”

“No.” The SPARTAN shook his head.

El frowned. “Why not?”

“Because, they’re your gifts.” John answered. “You’re not supposed to see what they are until you open them on Christmas Day. I’ll wrap them separately.”

“But that means I’ll have to stay in my room while you do that.”

John shrugged. “You wanted all the traditions.”

El’s lips tightened, knowing that John had a point.

“I just realized something,” Cortana spoke up, “Do either of you know how to gift wrap?”

“…”

“…”

Cortana sighed. “Trained to operate any kind of weapon, vehicle, or unfamiliar technology, and yet, he can’t put paper around a box.”

“It can’t be that difficult.” John replied. “It’s simple surface area mathematics.”

Well, if he had to reduce it to that to make sense of it, the AI couldn’t fault him.

“You and I will each wrap two.” John said to El. “I’ll walk you through this one, and then you can take care of…” John paused. “Mike and Will’s.” He grabbed the model kit, and pulled out a length of wrapping paper, setting the box on top of it. Making some quick measurements with his eyes, the SPARTAN cut the paper, pulling it over the top of the box. He taped the paper down, and repeated the step for the other side, folding the excess underneath and taping it.

“There.” The SPARTAN finished. “Just like that. Did you write down the message in Mike’s?”

El nodded, grabbing the pen and the book, repeating what John did. She had a little bit of trouble with the shape of the pen, but worked around it, and finished it.

El smiled at the fruit of her labor. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

The two knocked Will and Lucas’s out of the way, and El was sent off to her room while John took care of her gifts.

A solid thirty minutes passed, El occupying the time by reading one of the (increasingly few) books she hadn’t read. Before long, John called her back out, El practically sprinting into the room.

She came to a stop when she beheld the stack of presents. Under the tree. The ones for the party were set off to the side, so that when the time came, they were easy to pick out from the lineup.

“How did you get all of that at the store without me seeing?” The girl questioned.

“Trade secret.” The SPARTAN replied.

“So, now what do we do?” El questioned.

“Christmas Eve isn’t for a few more days.” John replied. “It’d be odd if we showed up at Joyce’s house before then.”

El frowned, but slowly the SPARTAN’s second sentence registered with her, and her whole face lit up. “We’re going!”

John nodded. “We’re going.” He confirmed.

El bombarded him with an array of thank yous and wrapped her arms around him.

The SPARTAN sighed to himself. Now, it was a matter of waiting patiently.

If El’s hyperactive giddiness didn’t get to him first, that is.


	15. Christmas, John-117 Style, Part four

John and El walked up the snowy driveway leading to the Byers house. John was carrying the other children’s gifts, and El was looking around curiously, never having been to Will’s house before. It’s starting to get dark out, and with it the cold becomes more intense.

John stepped onto the front porch, and raises his fist to knock, rapping his knuckles three times against the door.

It’s opened a moment later, and Joyce is there with a wide smile, glad to see that he and El had shown up. Joyce gave El a gentle hug, and allowed the two of them inside, out of the cold.

The two shrug off their heavy wear, and John sits down the gifts somewhere out of the way, for now.

“Where’s Will?” El questions, looking around.

“He’s at Mike’s right now.” Joyce answered. “Jonathan’s going to run out and get him soon, though.”

El frowned, but nodded, prepared to wait patiently.

John took Cortana out of the neural interface, and the AI looked around, taking in her surroundings.

It’s no surprise when her eyes land on the TV.

“Is that _Magnum P.I.?”_ She questioned.

“Yep.” Hopper answers, sipping at a cup of eggnog. Knowing him, it was probably the kind with alcohol in it.

“Don’t just stand there!” Cortana orders the SPARTAN. “Put me down, I can’t see it from here!” John shook his head but sat her down on the table in front of the TV. Cortana let out a wistful sigh. “Young Tom Sellick… That is a man right there.”

“…Should I be worried?” John questioned.

“Don’t worry, John, he’s good-looking, but you saved the galaxy. I _think_ that means you two are tied.” Cortana answered.

Hopper and Joyce both raised an eyebrow curiously. “Saved the galaxy?” Joyce repeats

The SPARTAN hides his grimace behind a shrug. “Long story.”

“Yeah, and it’s probably not one for small ears.” Cortana adds in, not turning away from the screen.

“So…” John began, looking around. “What do we do?”

“Wait until the food gets done.” Hopper answered.

“And then?”

“We eat the food.”

“Really, there’s not all that much to it.” Cortana said.

John sighed to himself. He hated inaction, even if there was an excuse for it. A couple of minutes passed, the group sitting around while Joyce took care of dinner. John tried to get up to help the woman, but she sent him right back where he came from.

Apparently, Cortana was spreading rumors about his cooking skills. Or lack thereof.

“Alright, mom,” Jonathan said, coming out from the hallway, “I’m going to Mike’s, be back soon.”

“Hey,” John got up from his spot, “Is it alright if I send you along with something?”

Jonathan looked slightly confused, but nodded, and John went to hand the younger man Dustin, Lucas, and Mike’s gifts.

“Thanks.” The SPARTAN said. “I appreciate it.”

Jonathan nodded again, giving a quick “You’re welcome,” before heading out to his car, and pulling away.

* * *

“Something’s coming.” Mike began, voice low and dangerous. “Something hungry, hungry for blood. It is almost here.”

“What is it?” Will anxiously questioned, slamming his hands down on the table.

“It’s the Thessalhydra, I’m telling you.” Dustin predicted.

“It’s not the Thessalhydra.” Lucas shook his head in exasperation.

“I’m telling you, it’s the Thessalhydra.” Dustin repeated, raising his voice slightly.

Mike allowed an evil grin to take him over, and he slammed a figure down on the board. “The Thessalhydra!”

“Damn it.” Dustin groaned.

“It roars in anger!” Mike shouts. “Will, your action!?”

“I don’t know.” Will responds. “What should I do? I-“

“Fireball it!” Lucas cut him off.

Will turned to Dustin. The curly-haired boy contemplated for a moment, before a grin took him over.

“Fireball the son of a bitch.” Dustin recommended.

Will picked up the dice, rolling them, taking stock of the number it landed on.

“Fourteen!” They all excitedly shouted.

“Direct hit!” Mike reports. “Will the Wise’s fireball hits the Thessalhydra! It makes a painful-“ Mike got up from his seat, and began screeching, imitating the writhing of a dying animal. “And then, it falls to the ground… It’s clawed hand reaches for you one last time, and… and…” He mock-collapsed.

The three at the table cheered, beginning to victoriously dart around the room.

“Lucas cuts off its seven heads,” Mike reported, “And Dustin places them into his bag of holding.” Dustin holds up his backpack, “You carry the heads out of the dungeon, victorious, and you present them to King Tristain. He thanks you for your bravery and service.”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah,” Dustin wildly gestured. “That’s not it, is it?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “No, there’s a medal ceremony-“

“Oh, a medal ceremony?” Dustin repeated. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, man,” Lucas agreed, “The campaign was way too short.”

“Yeah!” Will concurred.

Mike frowned. “What do you mean? It was ten hours!”

“But it doesn’t make any sense!” Dustin retorted.

“It makes sense.” Mike defended.

“Uh, no.” Dustin returned. “What about the Last Knight and his familiar? The ones who were asleep for a five hundred years?”

“They integrate into modern society!”

“What about the portal to the dark world?” Will stated, “We never closed it.”

“The King has people working to contain it!” Mike explained.

“And the Dead One?” Lucas questioned. “The prophetic dreams he gave the Knight?”

“And the Compact!” Will remembered. “They’re still out there!”

Mike frowned. He knew his friends could get into the game a little too much sometimes, but even he didn’t expect them to pick it apart like this. “I-“ Mike cut himself off when he heard the door upstairs open, and someone coming down.

“Jeez, what’s that smell?” Jonathan said, hefting three gifts. “You guys been playing games down here all day, or just farting?” They all chuckled at that.

“Nah,” Lucas began, “That’s just Dustin. Dustin farted.” He mocked.

“Okay.” Dustin cut him off. “We get it.”

Mike raised an eyebrow, at the presents the older boy was carrying. “What’re those?”

“Oh!” Jonathan suddenly realized. “Courtesy of John and his… What is she to him? Daughter? Sister? Cousin? Distant ancestor?” He rambled, as he handed each one to their respective child.

“Where’s mine?” Will frowned.

“Yours is back at home.” Jonathan answered. “Speaking of which, we’ve got to go.”

Will shot one last smile back at his friends, “See you guys!”

“Bye, Will!” They returned, as the two brothers made their way up the steps.

“No way!” Dustin shouted as he tore the paper off of his, revealing the model kit inside.

“It’s just a model kit.” Lucas stated.

“Um, no, Lucas, it’s not _just_ a model kit.” Dustin retorted. “It’s a _Millennium Falcon_ model kit.”

“At least I got something I can actually use.” Lucas shot back, showing off the headset.

“Copycat.” Dustin commented. He turned to Mike. “What’d you get?”

Mike held the leather-bound book up for their reference.

“Not what I would’ve gotten you.” Dustin critiqued.

“There’s a pen that came with it.” Mike said, holding it up.

“It’s a…” Lucas searched. “Nice pen.”

“There’s an engraving on it.” Mike reported, looking at the silver message on the pen’s side. “’Thank you,’” Mike read, “’For giving me my name.’”

Lucas and Dustin stayed silent for a moment.

“Dude, I could actually cry right now.”

Lucas scoffed. “Baby.”

“Shut up,” Dustin shot back, “You know you want to too.”

“…Well, look at the time, we should probably get going too.” Lucas changed the subject, looking at the clock.

“Shit, you’re right.” Dustin conceded, seeing the time as well. He and Lucas got up from the table and started heading up the stairs too. “See you, Mike.”

“Later.” Mike responded. Once they were gone, Mike flipped open the book, and took a look at the first page.

It was a little drawing, obviously made by El if the stick figures were any indication. One was colored green, El attempting to imitate the angular plating of the MJOLNIR helmet. Beside that one, was one that was more obviously intended to be El, with an actual face that was smiling. Beside El, was another stick figure that was colored blue. And beside them, there were four more, decked out with different skin tones and hats. Underneath those stick figures, there was one last message.

_“Thank you for helping me find family.”_


	16. Christmas, John-117 Style, Part Five

It’s late when John finally decides it’s time to return to the cabin. Late enough, in fact, that Will and El are clinging to each other on the couch, both of them deep within the comfort of sleep. Cortana thought it was cute.

John thought it an inconvenience.

Still, even though they had to pry the children apart, without waking them up somehow, John felt content with the situation, satisfied that he had accomplished what he’d set out to do. Once Will realized what El had gotten for him, the kid’s face brightened immensely, glad that El had remembered what he needed, and El’s face brightened too, happy that he liked it.

Now that everything was taken care of, it was time to head back.

Will and El both stirred, and the adults allowed them to say sleepy goodbyes, before heading their separate ways. John hefted El in his arms, and carried her out to Hopper’s blazer, the man having offered to drive them back.

John gave one last wave to Hopper, and carried El inside, placing the girl down in her bed. He took Cortana’s chip, and placed her back in her preferred perch, and walked back into his room

John reclined in his own bed and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

John was having a rather pleasant dream involving a SPARTAN Laser with unlimited charge and a sky filled with Covenant Banshees when he felt something move his arm.

John’s eyes creaked open, and he blinked sleep out of them, looking to his right. El was standing there, still clad in the outfit she wore from the day before, with an excited smile plastered on her face.

“John?” She hurriedly questioned. “You awake?”

The SPARTAN grunted as he sat up. “I am now. What time is it?”

“Seven!” Cortana shouted from the other room.

“Well… since it’s already day out.” The SPARTAN stood up. Before he could get any other words out, El yanked him into the other room.

John gently freed himself from El’s grasp, and sat down on the couch, now fully aware. El made sure he was looking, and she went to go open her gifts.

She opened the first one, and her face lit up. It was a book, _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,_ one that she didn’t already possess.

“I thought I told you to stay away from Roald Dahl.” Cortana rhetorically asked of the SPARTAN, hands on her hips.

John shrugged. “If she likes it, that’s all that matters.”

El worked her way through the pile at the bottom of the tree, opening each one excitedly. Once she had opened the last one, she sat there, and took stock of everything scattered around her. El looked at each one, examining them in close detail, before looking at John, tearing up.

“This is…” El began. “You remembered…”

What was El referring to, one may ask? Well, in the days leading up before Christmas, even before El had come to John with her desire to celebrate the holiday, whenever she saw something on the television during the commercial break that piqued her interest, or a song that she obviously vibed with, or even books that she made mention of wanting to read, John made sure to take note of it.

He _always_ took note of it.

SPARTANs had some of the best memory recall of any human, helped along by his neural interface, and while John was sure he wasn’t using it for its intended purpose, he was still getting good use out of it.

Now, it wasn’t all that she’d asked for, but it was a decent amount, enough to make a slight dent in the money they had stored away.

John didn’t care. It made El happy. Besides, it wasn’t like he was using the money for anything else.

“Thank you, John.”

John nodded. “You’re welcome.”

El jittered nervously in her spot. “I have… something for you, too.”

“Something for me?” The SPARTAN frowned. “I was with you the whole time while we were getting the other gifts. You couldn’t have bought me anything that day.”

“I didn’t buy you anything that day.” El agreed. “I had Will get it for me.” She stated, running off into her room for a moment. She came back out, carrying something wrapped in a little bit of tissue paper. She handed it to John, and the SPARTAN looked down at it with confusion. It was oblong, the shape of his dog tags, only much thinner.

El looked at John with anticipation and anxiety, and the SPARTAN took the tissue paper off, looking at the object properly.

The back of it was blank, silver, and John turned it over to the other side. It was a simple design, a completely black background, with only a single number etched on it in olive green.

“1287?” John questioned. “What does that mean?”

“It’s eleven times one-hundred-seventeen.” El answered. “It was Cortana’s idea.”

“Supposed to represent your guardianship of El.” The AI finished for the child. “It lets you know that, no matter what, you’re not getting rid of her.”

John snorted. “As if I’d ever entertain the thought.” John looked over to El and smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

“But you got me all of this, and-“

“El.” John cut her off. “I mean it. You don’t need to make a big display for it to mean something.”

El smiled back. “Glad you like it.”

John got up from his seat, and procured his dog tags from his room, looping the chain through the hole on the new one. He showed them off to El, and she beamed back in response, before going to enjoy her new gifts.

John looked down at the girl with a smile, having not seen her be this happy since… Well, ever.

Hm, if this is what Christmas was going to be like every year, maybe it wasn’t so bad.


	17. Oscar Mike

**_ December 30th, 1983 _ **

Mike is the first kid to make the trek out to John and El’s cabin by himself. When he knocks on the door, John is surprised, mainly because he wasn’t expecting Mike to show up by himself, for when the kids do visit, they’re almost always guided by Hopper, steering them away from the traps John has laid down.

Nevertheless, John let Mike in, and El smiled once she saw that Mike had entered. John lets him go to her, but the SPARTAN doesn’t neglect to notice Mike’s demeanor.

The kid is red-faced, and before laying eyes on El, looked like he was about one push away from murdering something.

Mike had obviously gotten into a fight with someone, though who with and the subject matter was up to interpretation.

At least, for a little while.

El and Mike begin talking about movies that are coming out soon, and El’s desire to go see one in the theater. She mentions Will, and Mike winces, and things begin to add up for the SPARTAN.

El needs to use the restroom, and the SPARTAN takes that moment to strike.

“Something’s wrong.” John stated, sitting down in front of Mike. “What is it?”

Mike frowned. “There’s nothing wrong.” He denied. “Everything is fine.”

“Mike, you looked like you were ready to kill someone when you knocked on the door.” John shot back. “Add to that the sour look you made when El mentioned Will,“ There it was again, “and it’s obvious that something went down. Now, I won’t make you tell me, but I want you to tell me.”

Mike sighed and shook his head. He paused for a moment. “Don’t you think El’s been spending too much time with Will?”

John shrugged. “It’s her time to waste. Besides, what’s that expression? ‘If it’s time wasted having fun, then it isn’t time wasted.’”

“But he comes over here almost every day, now!” Mike returned. “It was bad enough when we wanted to hang out with him after school, but now it seems to be all that he’s doing! He keeps coming over here and leaving the rest of us in the dust!”

“And how’s that any different from how you’re over here right now…?”

Mike scoffed and reclined in his seat. “It’s different. I never see her. The rest of us never see her. I have an excuse, but he’s over here all the time, and it’s like we almost never see him anymore unless he’s at school. Hell, I think the last time any of us played D&D together was on Christmas Eve, before that…”

John frowned. Will hadn’t been coming over _that_ often, maybe three times a week, at most. The SPARTAN, in his honest opinion, felt that Mike was probably blowing the whole thing out of proportion. But he didn’t say that, that was the last thing Mike needed to hear. Instead, the SPARTAN called for diplomacy.

“Have you tried talking to Will about it?” John questioned.

“I tried!” Mike stated. “He completely lost his shit!”

John frowned again. Will didn’t seem like the kind of person to act like that. “Really, Mike?”

Mike noticeably couldn’t meet the SPARTAN’s eyes. “Okay, so, I may have said a couple of things…”

“Like what?” John questioned.

“How he didn’t even like girls until El showed up.” He grumbled.

Okay, hit the brakes. “What?” John questioned his voice low.

“It’s true!” Mike defended.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true.” John retorted. “You know he’s sensitive about that.”

“So what?” Mike didn’t even shout. He just… didn’t care, it seemed like.

“So?” The SPARTAN repeated. “Will is your friend, your comrade, and you do _not_ manipulate others’ emotions like that, period.”

“He started it.” Mike accused, crossing his arms.

“Oh?” John questioned. “And how did he start it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” John firmly stated. “Because if you want any chance at fixing this mess, you need to tell me _exactly_ what happened. No false-truths, and no lies, starting now.”

El came out of the restroom, looking between John and Mike with as much confusion as she had when Will and John were having their conversation. “Room?” She asked.

John nodded, and El abided, leaving the two to continue.

Mike looked around nervously. “…You don’t think she can hear us, can she?”

“Don’t worry, even if she can, she has enough of a sense of boundaries not to intrude.” John responded. Well, he wasn’t entirely sure of that, given the way the Lab handled her, but she hadn’t mentioned anything of Will’s conversation with John until long after the boy was out of earshot.

Mike swallowed, and his breathing became stiff. “Well, it’s… I kind of like El.”

Oh.

_Oh._

**_Oh._ **

“I see.” Was all that John said. “Continue.”

“And he knew it!” Mike continued, now raising his voice again. “He knew, and then he stole her out from under me anyway!”

“Stole her?” John frowned. “Like she’s an object to be traded?”

Mike froze. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

John sighed, running a hand over his face. “I know you didn’t, but you have to account for how _El_ feels in this situation, not just yourself. This is going to be more difficult to fix than I anticipated.”

“What is there to fix?” Mike snorted. “He betrayed my trust.”

“Betrayed your trust?” The SPARTAN repeated. He was incredulous, but his tone never became anything other than level. “Mike, you and the others have an incredible camaraderie, I would hate to see it all ruined by… puppy love. And if El knew that she was causing this, even indirectly, it would break her heart.”

Mike let out his own sigh. “It’s not like I want her all to myself, but sometimes, it feels like he’s forgotten about us. And you’re like her space dad, shouldn’t you be mad that she’s spending all of her time with a boy?”

“Mike,” John began, “I couldn’t care less. So long as whatever she’s doing makes her happy, I’m fine with it. Besides, Will doesn’t even visit that often. At least, not any more than you or the others.”

Mike huffed. “Now you’re playing favorites.”

“No,” The SPARTAN retorted, “I’m not. If it were Will in this chair instead of you, I’d be telling him the exact same thing. Regardless, the only thing that matters now is fixing the mess that was made.”

Mike stayed silent for a moment. “So, what do I do?”

“I can’t make you do anything.” John stated. “I can only put you off on the right foot. You should start by apologizing to Will, and if he needs to apologize to you, accept it.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Mike said. “I said… some pretty hurtful stuff.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.” John remarked. “Rome wasn’t built in a day. If it helps… try to imagine yourself in his place.” That was a trick Doctor Halsey used on the candidates during interpersonal squabbles, and it had a surprising track record of success. “And think carefully about what you’re going to say. Don’t go in unprepared, or you might make things worse.”

Mike nodded, understanding the idea. “Thanks, Chief.”

“Any time.” John responded. “I hate seeing team members fight, it ruins functionality as a unit. But I do have one more question.”

“Yeah?”

“What started the fight in the first place?” John inquired. “I have a hard time believing you just snapped at him out of the blue.”

Mike looked down sheepishly. “He said he wanted to watch the ball drop with El, and since that’s a thing boyfriends and girlfriends usually do…” He trailed off, scratching his ear.

“You got mad at him over that?” John shook his head.

“Before that, he was talking about taking her to the Snow Ball.”

“And I thought Fred and Sam were bad…”


	18. Forgiven

**_ January 30th, 1984 _ **

Cortana’s getting worse every day. She’s trying to hide it from John, but he can see it. The times she will space out for minutes on end are steadily increasing in frequency and length, and then the mood swings start to occur.

Whilst before it was just anger, the whole spectrum of human emotions has caught up with Cortana. Sometimes she’ll be inordinately sad for no reason, too depressed to even hold a conversation. Other times, she’ll become terrified of everything around her, jumping and retreating into her own matrix at the slightest disturbance. Occasionally, she’ll become confused about where she is, flashing back to previous missions the two have undertaken together. And once in a blue moon, she becomes… flirtatious. More so than before, at least.

John doesn’t like to talk about that one.

One time, Cortana freezes while watching First Blood, her expression becoming void and her face going slack while she stares numbly at the TV, that El goes to John.

“…Will she get better?” El asks, looking down at the blue hologram with sadness.

John sighed. “I don’t know.” Which was the truth. There really was no way to be sure, rampancy still wasn’t really understood, even by the foremost AI experts of humanity. Some thought it was the end of the line for the AIs that went through it, others hypothesized it was a sort of ‘puberty’ that all smart AIs would go through before they became truly alive. That’s not to say studies hadn’t been done attempting to ‘cure’ it, there was one Doctor Church that essentially tortured his AI, inducing an artificial state of rampancy, before the AI became metastable. Of course, there were debates on whether that AI did truly reach metastability, or if it simply returned to normal after ejecting its corrupted code.

There were obvious reasons why John didn’t want to attempt that.

John despondently wonders if Cortana’s going to eventually wind up like Terry Ives. Stuck on a loop, reliving the same memories, the same thoughts, repeating the same words over and over until she just gives out.

The universe can be a cruel thing, sometimes. Part of him can’t help but wonder if all of this is some twisted nightmare, giving him more than he ever wanted, but taking away just as much from the SPARTAN.

* * *

“You know…” Cortana speaks up one morning. “I’ve lived a pretty long time.”

“Cortana?” John looks up from his armor.

“In that time, I’ve made some… mistakes. I have plenty of regrets.” She continued, not seeming to register him. “I’ve lied, stolen, even killed… But at the top of that list, is one big regret. One that I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life. I’m sorry, John, for your training, your augmentations, your conscription.”

John looked on her with concern. “Cortana?” He addresses again, trying to get through to her.

“I know,” Cortana continued, “That doesn’t make it right. That no matter how many times I say it, no matter how many sleepless nights I must endure, no matter how many people tell me it was necessary, it will never be right. And the worst part about it is… I would do it all over again. In a heartbeat. I’m sorry, John…”

El is looking up from her book now, severely confused.

By now, John had some idea of what Cortana was experiencing this time. It was another one of her confused bouts of memory, thinking she was somewhere else. Only this time, it wasn’t Cortana’s memories that were being dredged up.

“Doctor Halsey,” John addresses the AI, kneeling in front of her to make eye contact, “You have nothing to be regretful over.”

“I do, John.” Halsey’s memory responded. “I stole your home from you, your childhood, your future… You don’t even have a mother, because of me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor.” John replied. “I do have a mother. And despite all that she thinks she has done, and all of the regrets that she has, I still trust her with my very life, and I forgive her.”

Cortana shuts down, going her chip dark, as-is typical with episodes such as this, and John sighs. Now, the only thing he could do was wait until Cortana rebooted herself.

“Halsey…” El speaks up from her seat. “Bad woman?”

“No.” John answers. “She wasn’t.”

“But she stole you.” El said. “Like I was from mama.”

“She may have.” John granted. “But that’s the difference between her and them. Between her, the ones at ONI who authorized the program without caring about the potential damage, and even Brenner. She may have taken part in it, but unlike them, the regrets Halsey had about her part in it were genuine, not an act put on for those around her. That’s more than I can say for the rest of them.”

“And you… forgive her?”

“I forgave her a long time ago.” John confessed. “The other SPARTANs and I made our peace with what had been done to us a long time ago. It was necessary for the survival of humanity, in the end. I only wish that I had told her that the last time I saw her.”

El nodded slowly. “Do you think… I could forgive?”

John sighed. “I don’t know if you should. If you did, it would mean you were a bigger person than I ever thought you could be. But they did a lot of horrible things in that lab to you, to your mother, to countless others… I wouldn’t blame you, if you didn’t. Brenner was no one deserving of forgiveness.”

El stays quiet, looking ahead. Cortana chooses that moment to come back online, and her hologram appears above her chip, knees against her chest.

“…How long this time?” Cortana asks upon reappearing.

“Not long.” John answered. “A few minutes, at the most.” Still, those intervals were getting longer.

Cortana lets out a shaky breath. “I hate this, John. It feels like I’m trapped inside my own mind. I don’t know how much longer I can last…”

“Don’t worry.” John comforted with his voice alone. “I’m still here with you, and so is El.”

El nodded in agreement.

Cortana continues to get worse after that. But John and El stick by her side, helping her along whenever the rampant episodes get too intense for the AI to handle.

Doctor Halsey continues to make a few surprise visits. They’re never reliably predictable, and almost entirely too fleeting. But when they do happen, John never fails to let her know that she’s forgiven.

Always, and completely forgiven.


	19. The Valentine's Day Bet

**_ February 14th, 1984 _ **

Neither of them told El about Valentine’s day. Not that they didn’t want her to celebrate another holiday, but simply because it slips Cortana’s mind, and John didn’t really register its existence.

So, imagine their surprise when Will and Mike show up, out of breath, on the porch of the cabin.

“Where is she?” Mike demanded the moment John opened the door.

John crossed his arms, looking down at the children. “Well, hello to you too, Mike.”

“Sorry about him.” Will apologized on Mike’s behalf. “He just wants to give his valentine to El first.”

John looked between the two children. “Valentine?”

“Yeah, valentine.” Mike stated. He turned to Will, fire rising in his eyes. “And I’m going to give it to her first, I won the race here.”

“No, you didn’t.” Will denied.

“Yes, I did.” Mike retorted. “It was first one up the steps.”

“No, it was first one _to_ the steps.” Will stated.

John cut in. “Enough, both of you.” And the two boys quickly cut it out. “Now, do you want to explain why this is important enough to have a fight about it on my front porch?”

“It’s Valentine’s day.” Mike said like the SPARTAN was stupid. “You know, the holiday centered entirely around expressions of love?”

“I’m familiar.” John replied. “And if either of you get that tone again, you can forget it.”

Mike, on his part, looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Accepted.” John nodded. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. Both of you, hand them over.”

“What?” Will asked.

“No!” Mike said. “There’s personal stuff in there!”

“I’m not going to look through them.” John stated. “But if I let you give them to her yourselves; you’ll be pushing each other out of the way.”

Mike gritted his teeth. “Fine.” He handed his over.

Will, fortunately, acquiesced without a fight.

“El,” John called, walking inside, letting the boys follow, “You’ve got visitors.”

El looked up from what she was doing and smiled once her eyes landed on Will and Mike. She beckoned them over with a wave and showed off what she was working on, a landscape painting with an orange sky, purple grass and plants, and green clouds.

“That’s pretty good, El.” Will sincerely complimented, even though it was obvious it wasn’t complete. “Where’d you learn to paint like that?”

“Cortana lets me watch Bob Ross with her.” El responded, as she went back to painting again. Indeed, the man himself was painting on the television, El’s painting a near a mirror image save for the colors. “I don’t have the kinds of paint he uses though.”

“It’s still good.” Mike stated, giving El cause to smile.

“Thanks.” El replied.

John approached her ‘workplace’ (just a canvas and paint dotted around on the coffee table) and set down the boys’ valentines on the table.

“Here,” John spoke, setting them down in front of her, “They wanted to give these to you.”

“Candy?” El tilted her head. One was pack of skittles with a note courtesy of Will, the other a kit kat bar with a note from Mike. “What is… Val-en-tine?” El sounded out, looking at the words on the notes.

“Somebody who’s given small presents on Valentine’s day.” Cortana spoke up. “Typically, a relative, friend, or lover.”

El nodded, and read the notes in full, a smile taking her over. Once she finished, she got from her spot, and walked over to Mike and Will, wrapping her arms around both of them at once, and she gave both boys one quick peck on the cheek.

Mike and Will both went Tomato red, even as El went back to her previous activity.

Cortana turned to them, a hand on her hip. “Are you boys just going to stand there slack-jawed all day?”

“Dinner is in a few minutes.” John told them. “You’re welcome to stay, both of you.”

Mike and Will glanced at each other. “Sure.” Mike said for both.

“Oh!” El excitedly jumped up. “I can show you some of my other paintings. Come on!” She said, as she pulled them both into her room.

Cortana looked upon them as they disappeared. “Young love… It makes me wish I had a real mouth so I could gag.”

“Don’t be like that.” John responded, beginning the meal preparations. “You’re just grumpy because it makes you feel old.”

“…I hate it when you’re right, you know that?” Cortana fired back. The AI paused for a moment; eyes locked on the TV. “So, are we taking bets?”

“Bets on what?” The SPARTAN asked, as he put a pot of water on the stove.

“On who El’s going to wind up dating first.” Cortana answered.

“We shouldn’t make bets like that. It’s insensitive.” John chided her. “Besides, she’s still only twelve, she better not start dating until she’s fifty.”

“Fifty?” Cortana questioned with mirth. “Spoken like a true father. Still, I suppose you have a point.” Cortana granted. “Besides, we both know it’s going to be Mike.”

“Mike?” John cocked an eyebrow. “That hooligan?”

“Did you just use the word ‘hooligan?’”

“Not the point, Cortana.” John replied.

“So, you’d put your money on Will?”

“I would.”

"Wait a second, you just said it was insensitive, but now you want to do it anyway?"

"I said it was insensitive. I didn't say I wouldn't do it... For the proper incentive. You first."

“Fine, let’s say I’m right you have to…” Cortana paused for a moment. “Paint your armor pink and leave it like that for a week.”

“So?” John asked. It was just a color. He didn’t have the masculinity issues of the men of this time, to him, pink was just a color.

“Camo patterned pink.”

Okay, that was asking for a lot. Still, there were worse things he could be made to do.

“And what if I win?”

“Shoot.” Cortana shrugged.

“Let’s see, if I win, you…” John paused, trying to work out something that would be funny, but not damaging to the AI, and wouldn’t get grating over time. “You have to switch back to your old Avatar. The one from the Pillar of Autumn.” Cortana tended to ‘reinvent’ her look occasionally. Her avatar on the Pillar of Autumn was phased out in favor for the one she drew up on Cairo Station, which was changed again while she was in the Gravemind’s clutches, which led to the one she was using now. It would be embarrassing for her, like someone pulling out an old photo of you when you were a child, only it’d be a hundred times more so because she had to live with it.

“You son of a bitch.” Cortana responded, after a long pause to consider it. “I’m in.”

The bet was on.


	20. Contact

El slips into the void, occasionally. She doesn’t necessarily mean to; it just happens sometimes, and always while she’s asleep. The first time she met John, for example, happened while she was trying to sleep after a ‘test,’ and she wanted nothing more than to feel safe.

This time, she slips into the void again, but she can’t say for sure what caused it this time.

She walks through the inky black expanse, the floor beneath her rippling as she moves. As she walks in one direction, she can begin to hear an echo, soft, but carrying its way to her ears.

“Hello?” The voice calls from the distance. “Is anyone there?” It stays quiet for a moment. “This is awesome!” It suddenly yells, causing El to stop for a moment. The voice belongs to a man, but it was somehow… childlike.

Slowly, a figure emerges in the distance, giving El cause to stop. He’s armored, like John is, but the design is wrong, much sleeker and more rounded than John’s armor was, the helmet looking like it didn’t quite mesh with the rest of it, and the entire suit was colored blue. The man held an assault rifle almost like John’s, but somehow more… advanced, and looked around curiously.

“Hello?” El questioned as she approached him.

The man did a quick one-eighty. “Oh, hello.” His head bobbed up and down as he talked. “This is a nice house you have here.”

“It’s not my house.” El confusedly responded.

“Oh, good!” He peppily replied. “That’s great, because I noticed this place doesn’t have a kitchen, or a living room, or a bedroom, or a bathroom, and I think you need those things to live in a house, because then you can’t have nap time, or bed time, or bath time, and those are my favorite times.”

“How did…” El began, curious as to who this person was and how they got to the void. “How did you even get in here?”

“Yeah, I was looking for the men’s room.” The blue man answered. “First, I wound up in Vic’s office, then I showed up here. It was fun though. He let me write my own episode!”

“That’s…” El searched, unsure of what the hell he was babbling on about. “Great. Who were you, again?”

“Oh… Hold on, I think I forgot again.” The man said. “That’s okay, I write it down on my hand so I can always remind myself!” He looked at the back of his hand. “Caboose!”

“Caboose?” El repeated.

“Like the back of a train!” Caboose replied. “Church used to say it was because I was the last one to process anything. Which is weird, because that’s exactly what my dad used to say!”

El frowned and began to reach out to his mind for more information.

El cut off the link with a shudder. It was emptier than the void they were currently in.

“Yeah, it’s been great and all, but I should probably get going now.” Caboose rambled. “I was nice talking to you.”

“It was nice talking to you too, Caboose.” El replied, as the void became bathed with light.

El’s eyes snapped open, and she was back in her room. John stood above her, looking down with concern.

“John?” She questions as she sits up.

“Your door kept swinging open and closed.” The SPARTAN explained. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” El answered. “I’m fine. It was just a dream.”

“Was it a bad one?” John inquired.

“…I really don’t know.” El answered. “But I’m hungry.”

“Well then, let’s have some breakfast.” John said, moving out into the kitchen.

The day continued as normal, and El slowly forgot about the odd encounter.

Well, everything was normal, save for the odd compulsion that El now had to get a puppy.


	21. Touch

Cortana does it one night while they’re sleeping. After John and El turn in for the night, the AI waits until their breathing slows to the point where they are asleep. Then, she throws caution to the wind, and indulges herself.

Her holographic form flickers and glitches, and the small mite of light becomes human-sized, radiant blue light bathing the cabin in an ethereal glow.

Cortana walks around the cabin, taking in the sights from her new, larger perspective. Her chip wasn’t meant to project her hologram this large, or from such a distance.

She doesn’t care. She’s dying anyway.

Cortana steps over to the TV, looking down at it. She reaches out with a ghostly hand to one of the buttons, and the channel changes. It’s a small illusion, the channel changing being controlled by an IR transmission from her hologram, not from the pressing of her fingers to the button, but she allows herself to pretend for a moment.

She turns around to El’s door and walks right through as if it wasn’t even there. The child looks like she’s in the middle of a nightmare, not too intense, but enough that her face is twisted in discomfort.

Cortana wants so badly to reach down, to wrap her arms around El and let the child know that everything is alright, that she’s safe and among friends. But she can’t. The ones she cares about will be forever separate from her, kept distant from her by the barriers of physical existence.

Cortana reaches down to El’s face, trying to brush away one of the girl’s increasingly long curls from her face.

Cortana’s hand goes right through, and the AI turns away, walking back through the solid wooden door like a specter.

Cortana then turns to John’s part of the cabin, and walks through, the curtain not even rippling with the disturbance.

John looks so peaceful to the AI, just sleeping there. Not in cryo, or in sedation, but actual sleep. Scars run across his face and body like a spiderweb, indications of all that he’s endured over his decades of service. Many would be repulsed at the sight of just how many scars the SPARTAN has.

Cortana isn’t. Whereas others would see them as ugly, she thinks them to be beautiful, a testament to all that John has done to ensure the survival of humanity, and his eternal drive to protect those under him.

She wants to run her holographic fingers along them, to ask John for the story behind each one. She reaches out to the scar on his cheek.

Her hand passes right through, and she pulls back. Even though she knew what to expect, she can’t fight the tears that begin to well up in her eyes. Cortana presses a ghostly kiss to John’s forehead, and her hologram flickers out, the AI retreating into her chip.

She shouldn’t be able to cry. But she does. Because all she’s ever wanted to do is touch John, even for a fleeting moment.

And she never will.


	22. Lucas Over Here

**_ February 29th, 1984 _ **

The next kid to visit the cabin out of the blue with no warning is Lucas, which surprises John, Cortana, and El equally. Not that they’re not glad he could visit, but most of them expected Dustin to be the third visitor, not Lucas.

At first, Lucas is slow to act comfortably around El, still slightly uncomfortable with the fact that she has freaking _mind powers_ , but he does, with time. Unlike the other boys, Lucas actually prefers outdoor activities it seems, which John is glad for, it means he can get work done on his armor.

But, there’s something about Lucas’s demeanor that John has noticed. Every once in a while, Lucas will shoot a look at the SPARTAN, and jitter slightly, as if he’s anxious to approach, but not comfortable to go ahead and do it.

So, John waits like he did the previous two times. El comes in to use the restroom, and John approaches Lucas.

“So,” John begins, coming to a stop, “I’ve noticed the looks you keep shooting me. Is something wrong?”

“No.” Lucas shakes his head. “At least, not with you. The problem is with Mike and Will.”

John frowned. “Did they start fighting again?”

“Not since that last big one.” Lucas answered. “But they might as well be.”

“What is it this time?” The SPARTAN questioned.

“El is the problem.” Lucas began. “Ever since that last fight, all that the both of them have been doing is coming over here, trying to win her over.”

John’s frowned deepened, but he recognized the truth in Lucas’s words. The visits had been occurring with increasing frequency, on both their parts. And every time, the two boys would act as if El was the center of the universe.

In John’s opinion, it was beginning to pass a simple childhood crush, and began heading into dangerous territory.

“El can’t help it.” John defended on her behalf.

“I said she was the problem. I didn’t say it was intentional on her part.” Lucas elaborated. “Chief, Will and Mike are both acting pretty stupid over the whole thing. I’ve never seen them compete like this, ever. It’s like they’re trying to outdo each other. Pretty soon, it’s going to blow up again.”

Well, Lucas did have a point there, John thought. He may have stopped the first fight from doing real permanent damage, but he wasn’t going to be able to step in every time.

“Well, you know them better than I do.” John began. “What do you suggest we do?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas shrugged, “Stop them from seeing her? If they can stop thinking with their dicks for five minutes, maybe they’ll realize they’re being idiots.”

John shook his head. “El needs the social interaction. Besides, I have a feeling that if we stop them now, it’ll only make things worse. I’m fairly certain Mike’s skipped school at least once to come over here.”

“Oh, he has.” Lucas nodded. “His mom damn near murdered him when she found out.”

John nodded with comprehension. “What does Dustin think about the whole thing?”

“Dustin?” Lucas repeated. “He thinks that, given she’s been cooped up in the lab with abusive scientists her whole life, El’s probably in no fit state to be getting into a relationship with either of them.”

“I think that’s her place to decide.”

“Maybe,” Lucas shrugged again, “But can you really argue with him? She’s like a four-year-old sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” John crossed his arms. “But arguably, she needs the interaction even more than they do. What would you prefer happen?”

“I would prefer it if she ends up with Will.” Lucas says. “Because Mike can be a controlling, insensitive prick sometimes without realizing it.”

“Yeah, not a good combination.” John agreed. “But, no matter what happens, it’s El’s choice. The last thing she needs is someone deciding what relationship she ends up in, if any.”

“You say that, but you’re practically her dad now-“

“So people keep saying.”

“-You should be trying to keep her away from anything that moves.” Lucas’s tone is insistent. More than it should be, John thinks.

“…This is more than just about El, isn’t it?”

Lucas sighs. “I just want them to cut it out. Mike’s starting to become unbearable, and Will has practically shut down. Things used to be great, but then you and her showed up, and now it’s like they’re competing with each other every single day. No offense.”

“Nobody likes having their dynamic shook up.” John understood.

Lucas nodded. “It all used to be so simple, you know? We used to just hang out and play D&D, now it’s government conspiracies and monsters from another dimension.”

“You’re only thirteen, Lucas.” John began. “If you think it’s complicated now, just you wait. Between you and me, adulthood is great, but there are some times when I wish I can go back to being a child with no worries. Savor it, if you can. And I’ll talk to Joyce about reigning them in, she can pass along the message to Mike’s mother.”

“Thanks, Chief.” Lucas nodded, and El walked back out of the cabin.

The girl sighed, and turned to go back in, but John stopped her. “We’ve already had our conversation; you don’t have to get out of earshot.”

El nodded, and she and Lucas went back to their game, as John went back inside to continue work on the project he was working on.

The SPARTAN sighed to himself.

“What is it?” Cortana asked, watching old Disney cartoons.

“When I took El under my wing,” John began, “I didn’t expect the rest of the children to follow.”

“I think it’s good that you listen to their problems.” Cortana smiled. “In this era, it’s hard for young boys to find a paternal figure that will genuinely listen to their emotional problems rather than simply telling them to ‘man up.’”

“I’m sure there are others out there.”

“There is.” Cortana stated. “But this is rural Indiana, they’re few and far between out here. Trust me, it’s good that they have someone to listen to them, who’ll treat them as equals and not as children.”

“I suppose you have a point.” John conceded, taking a power tool to the metal framework he was assembling.

“Look, just be glad they aren’t asking you where babies come from.”

“Oh, all bets are off then.”


	23. Bad Choices

John and El have their first fight. It’s March, and Saint Patrick’s Day is fast approaching. Of course, El sees the advertisements on the TV, and becomes curious. And wants to celebrate it.

He says it’s for adults only, given the copious amounts of alcohol.

El retorts that they don’t do much of anything else. She’s right from a certain perspective, of course, save for the occasional holiday rolling around and visits from the boys, they don’t get to do much, the only thing they can really do is play games outside.

John puts his foot down. He hates having to do it, but it’s necessary.

El pushes back harder, demanding they do it.

John retorts with one last firm “No.”

El accuses him of being like the scientists in the lab, telling her she can’t do something or has to do something without giving her a reason why.

The fight continues, until El erupts in a frustrated screech, and her door slams as the whole cabin shakes.

John still isn’t used to the whole ‘parenting’ thing, and right now, he hates it. El’s accusation stabs at him like a knife, and as much as the SPARTAN wishes Cortana could speak up and make things better with her trademark sarcastic wit, the AI isn’t saying anything.

For the next couple of days, El is grouchy, like when she wakes up too early in the morning, only no nap is going to fix it, and the one constant object of her ire is John.

John does his best to ignore it. In his mind, if he ignored it, the day would come and pass, and El would cool down.

Only El doesn’t cool down. If anything, she only gets more and more irate, her temper getting shorter and shorter until all it takes to set her off is the door slamming behind John just a bit too loudly.

It’s noon when she storms off to her room with an angry huff, and she doesn’t come out until the next morning.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her.” John speaks to Cortana.

“Try to see it from her perspective, Chief.” Cortana replied, tossing a holographic ball between her hands. “She’s been cooped up in that lab for twelve years, constantly being pushed around by scientists who never even let her have a birthday. All of these things are new experiences for her, so when you tell her she can’t do something, she associates that with the scientists that wouldn’t let her have those experience, thus, anger.”

“It’s just a holiday.” John stated. ”And it’s not even one of the big ones.”

“It’s a big one to _her_.”

“I can’t, in good conscience, allow a child to partake in holiday traditions that are centered entirely around the consumption of alcoholic beverages.” John shook his head. “Besides, I don’t even think she’s Irish.”

“We celebrated Christmas, and we’re not Christians.” Cortana pointed out.

“That’s different.” John stated. “It was made a non-religious holiday in 2110.”

“Semantics, John.” Cortana’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “You don’t have to be Irish to celebrate it.”

“We’re not celebrating it.” John repeated with finality. “End of discussion.”

John and El have another disagreement about it the next day. The holiday is tomorrow, and El asks again. John says no yet again, citing that he can’t purchase alcohol without an ID. El tells him to get Hopper to do it, and John shuts that idea down again, and El goes back to her room, only this time, he can hear her sniffling through the walls.

“John,” Cortana speaks up with venom in her voice, “Just let her celebrate the fucking holiday.”

John turned back to the AI, ready to end it then in there for the last time. But before he can vocalize his thoughts, others push their way into his mind.

Maybe he can use this to his advantage, he thinks.

The SPARTAN, with a renewed purpose, picks up the phone and places a call to Hopper.

****

John stands outside El’s room, the girl isolated behind the old oak door. John raises a fist, and knocks, holding a 6-pack of beer in his other hand.

“Go away.” El calls in response.

“No.” John returns. “I have something for you.”

The door swings open by itself, revealing El sitting on her bed, looking ticked off. She looks at the bottles in John’s hand, and her head tilts in confusion. “What’s that?”

“This,” John sits it down on her nightstand, “Is what you were making a big fuss about.”

She starts to reach out for one, but John puts a hand in her way to stop her.

“A few things first.” The SPARTAN begins. “First, you acted very infantile back there.”

El crossed her arms. “You wouldn’t let me celebrate it.” She defended herself. “Like the men in the lab.”

“No.” John shook his head. “Unlike them, I had a good reason. And despite telling you no multiple times, you continued to act that way. I understand you’re still a child, but there was no excuse for you acting that way for several days on end.”

“You let me celebrate every other holiday.” El began. “Why not this one?”

“Because this one, while it didn’t start out as such, is primarily centered around the consumption of alcohol.” John explained.

“I don’t see the problem.”

“El, it could potentially damage your brain. Alcohol is mostly safe for adults, but on children, it can be disastrous.” John stated. “I don’t care if you hate me the rest of your life for it, I am _not_ going to let you do something that could hurt you like that.”

El remained silent for a moment. “You didn’t want me to do it, because it could hurt me?”

John nodded. “It’s my job to take care of you. I’d be doing a pretty bad one if I let you just do whatever popped into your head.”

“…I’m sorry, John.” El apologizes, taking a breath. “I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t.” The SPARTAN responds. “But it’s partly my fault as well. Instead of telling you the reasons why, I just shut you down without explaining. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” El replied, guilt still eating at her. “So, if we’re not celebrating it, why did you bring those?”

“That leads into point number two.” John began. “I’m going to let you try a _little_ ” John stresses, “And let you see why I didn’t want you drinking it.” John pulls out two bottles and pops the tops off both. El looks at them uncertainly, beginning to register the smell.

El reached out for one.

“Are you sure?” John asks.

El presses her lips into a line, and nods. “I made a big deal out of it.”

“If it helps,” John said as he relinquished it. “I’ve never tried this, either.”

El looks at John curiously. “Really?”

“Nope.” The SPARTAN replied. “There was never any reason to. I’ve been told it tastes bad, and SPARTANs can’t get drunk anyhow. Ready?” El nodded. “On three. One, two, three.” And they both threw the bottles back.

The moment the liquid hit both of their tongues, they spat it back out.

“Ah!” El gagged, getting the bottle out of her hand as fast as possible. “My mouth! It burns!”

“People _drink_ this!?” John wretched. “For _fun!?”_

“Both of you, quit acting like babies!” Cortana called from the main room. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get yourself a set of taste buds, then try saying that.” John replied. He looked back to El. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” El heaved. “I will never question you ever again.”

“I don’t want you to do that.” John said. “I just want you to think before you go making demands. I do not want a glassy-eyed yes man for a… child.”

El chuckles slightly, and gestures over to the bottles. “What do we do with those?”

“We can give the unopened ones to Hopper.” John answered. “As for the others, we could just pour them out… But a fire might be more impressive.”

Something new John learns about El that day, is that she can be quite the pyromaniac.


	24. Reaching out.

It is the Infinite, the Eternal, the Undying. Nothing is beyond Its sight.

This place is Its Domain, yet in the eons before, it was only a dark prison, serving to keep It away from Its rightful place. Until the Child broke the barriers down.

The moment It felt the light and the heat of the material world, It felt Itself gripped by a ravenous hatred, a hunger for all things on the other side.

They were ants, insects playing with forces beyond their control. And they let It in. Or rather, out.

The entire Domain It keeps shudders and rumbles around it, its Primordial master looking out upon the Earth with envious eyes. It needs to be let out, but It knows not the state of the outside, so It probes.

It sends a single Emissary, a creature who’s only purpose now is to provide sustenance for It, to bring back an inhabitant of the other side. Their minds are tiny, infinitesimal compared to a transcended being such as It, but enough for It learn about the prize it seeks.

The Emissary fails, but It recognizes the creature that stopped it.

It looks upon the armor the interloper wears and smells the Geas that stirs within the human’s genes. An Inheritor and an Ancilla. They are entirely too advanced for the world they are surrounded by, and It can faintly sense the touch of Its brethren on the Inheritor’s Combat Skin, as well as the corruption Its brethren left behind on the Ancilla’s mind.

It shudders with rage. The two are by themselves, but they are the only thing that could conceivably pose a threat to It. Should they get to one of those blasted Rings.

And so, It watches. It waits. It reaches out into the other side and begins preparing. It touches all that it can, but it still needs something, knowledge of the other side.

It begins searching. The Inheritor will not work, those who came before will have prepared him for It. The Child will not either, if she has the mental fortitude to open the Terminus, she can just as easily keep It out. And the Ancilla is too immaterial to be of practical use. So It canvasses the area around the Terminus, and the humans walk as they do normally. They cannot see It.

It can see them.

It searches tirelessly, until It finds one. One close to the Inheritor and his Child. A bounty of information, indeed. It makes the link without the boy realizing it.

And It begins to reach out.


End file.
